


Spinning Like A Wheel

by FunkyinFishnet



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Developing Relationship, F/M, Friendship, Loss, M/M, Male Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-14 21:06:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2203110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunkyinFishnet/pseuds/FunkyinFishnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Human d’Artagnan tries to end Vampire Athos, sure that Athos was the Vampire who killed his father. Athos decides to take d'Artagnan as his pet as punishment, a dangerous prospect as Athos is one of the Vampire King of France's Musketeers, surrounded by politics, old grudges, and old friends. D'Artagnan has a lot to learn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Very Unsocial Call

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a lyric from the song 'December, 1963 (Oh, What A Night)' by Clock.
> 
> The Vampire world, very much known to Humanity in the modern world here, is based on _True Blood_ and on the stories of [EricIzMine/](http://ericizmine.com) which are absolutely worth checking out.

 

 

Aramis laughed, that was what Athos remembered afterwards. Aramis laughed, his head thrown back, his arm possessive around Porthos' waist. Athos shook his head, he'd known Aramis for years and still the man's laugh made him smile more than it should. Porthos chuckled, muttering things against Aramis' temple that Athos could hear all-too-clearly despite the distance. Porthos was definitely doing it on purpose, turning his head to fix laughing eyes on Athos.

 

Athos was about to say something about having their invitation to his house rescinded when he sensed someone's approach, anger and grief swirling thickly, faintly edged with something sickeningly familiar, and then Athos was swinging easily to the right, avoiding a knife blow. Porthos and Aramis were at his side instantly, grabbing the man's – the _boy's_ – arms with a vampiric strength that made the boy hiss.

 

Athos picked up the stake that had clattered to the ground with the knife and looked at his attacker. He was young, human, and very beautiful. He smelled very strongly of Vampire, a stranger that Athos definitely didn’t recognise which could be a very bad sign. Athos enjoyed looking at him for a moment or two, in a way that made both Porthos and Aramis smirk. Athos raised an eyebrow at them both before turning back to the boy.

 

“Is there any particular reason for this very unsocial call?”

 

The boy looked furious and oh, there was that familiar note of scent again. Jasmine. Of course it was.

 

“You killed my father!”

 

Athos took the knife off him. “I doubt it.”

 

The boy scoffed and Athos approached him slowly, taking in how fast the boy's heartbeat was, but not from fear. He wasn't frightened by the group's displays of Vampire traits and he definitely believed what he was saying. He smelled like pained grief, anger and arousal. Behind his blank expression Athos was admiring the boy in return. Sadly the boy also smelled like Athos' ex-wife and sex.

 

Athos sighed. “No doubt a beautiful woman told you this, with long dark hair, a sinuous manner, and a mesmeric gaze?”

 

The boy frowned and Aramis groaned. “You should have ended her decades ago.”

 

Athos eyeballed him. “I _thought_ I had.”

 

“I've told you, you need help with your follow-through.”

 

Porthos snorted and loosened his grip a little on the boy. “Name?”

 

“D'Artagnan.”

 

Not a lie. Athos shook his head. “I don't know it.”

 

“He was Alexandre d'Artagnan, from Gascony. There was a hold-up in the Flying Horse; one of them said his name was Athos.”

 

Porthos looked incredibly unimpressed. “Because a Vampire butchering people in a pub is going to make sure his name is remembered? Générals don't take that kind of thing lightly.”

 

Athos inspected the boy, d'Artagnan, he was grief-stricken, it was clear to see without vampire senses, and he truly believed in what he was doing. Milady had likely only pushed him a little, eager for her ex-husband to suffer if not die. She knew how much he preferred not to interact with humanity.

 

“There've been several human murders recently, apparently committed by Vampires. Directeur Général Treville believes it's a religious group hoping to stir up violent prejudice against Vampires. I'm sorry, but it seems that your father was one of their unfortunate victims.”

 

Aramis swore in Spanish and let go of d'Artagnan to call Treville. D'Artagnan watched him, his form now limp in Porthos' powerful grip. Athos couldn't stop looking at him, he really was beautiful.

 

“I’m sure I can’t convince you of it, but I've been in Paris for the past month, the Directeur Général will swear to it.”

 

That seemed to get d'Artagnan's attention, his face pinching in a frown. “But that woman, the one who confirmed…she knew you.”

 

Athos' expression twitched, centuries later and he still couldn't remain completely blank at the mention of his former lover. “Milady de Winter is the name she currently appropriates. She was my wife.”

 

“Should have killed her,” Porthos reminded him.

 

“I thought-.”

 

“Should have done it yourself.”

 

Yes, possibly he should have. He acquiesced with a nod and then held out a hand. “Right. Phone.”

 

D'Artagnan gaped. “Why?”

 

“You clearly belong to a Vampire, I can smell them. I need to let them know where you are and what you've done.”

 

D'Artagnan looked as though he was going to protest but instead produced a phone. Clearly he had had some training in Vampire relations. “Constance Bonacieux, Vampire Général of Gascony.”

 

A Général, no less. But how was it she'd let her human boy run off and attempt to murder a knight of King Louis? Athos thumbed through the phone's contacts and then called Constance. He put the phone onto speaker, so that d'Artagnan could hear his mistress's wrath.

 

“How’s Paris?”

 

“Général, my name is Athos. Your pet just tried to end me; he was under the mistaken belief that I killed his father.”

 

There was the briefest pause and then Général Bonacieux swore magnificently in Gascon. Aramis, finished with his own phone call, looked very impressed. At least she didn’t seem to be the sort of pet owner who indulged their pet’s bad behaviour. Still, how did she not know of d'Artagnan's intentions? D'Artagnan was wincing; clearly he knew he was in deep trouble.

 

“I take it you were unaware of his plans?”

 

“He told me he was going to Paris to see friends and he wasn't lying. He needed a break from everything here after his father's passing. Alexandre, his father, was my day man, a position he’d held since before d'Artagnan's birth. We all miss him.”

 

So Alexandre and his son had known about Vampires before the Great Revelation. Interesting.

 

“He had help in his beliefs.”

 

“I assume she was very pretty,” Général Bonacieux did not sound amused or surprised. “My husband played his part too. He's not happy about d'Artagnan living in our house. He's sure d'Artagnan has designs on me turning him, even though I’ve made it clear that I don't want to become a Maker yet.”

 

“Jealousy.”

 

“He probably encouraged d'Artagnan to make this trip. He must have had an idea about the real reason for it.”

 

A perfect cocktail and Général Bonacieux really didn't sound happy about it. Clearly d'Artagnan was more of an adopted child than a traditional pet, it was evident she cared for him despite her husband's envy. And from the way d'Artagnan was reacting to her voice, he cared about her in return. That spoke well of them both.

 

“It sounds like Alexandre's death was the latest perpetrated by a gang who want to implicate Vampires in Paris. Directeur Général Treville has been informed; you may be called about d'Artagnan.”

 

“I'll expect the Directeur Général‘s call.”

 

Athos paused but continued, because Général Bonacieux deserved to know what was going to be dumped on her doorstep. “Also d'Artagnan's female friend unofficially works for the Cardinal; a fact d’Artagnan was unaware of, so you may get a call from His Eminence. I doubt he knew about his employee’s activities, she likely saw d'Artagnan as an opportunity to use against me.”

 

Général Bonacieux swore again. “Thank you for the warning.”

 

Athos gestured and Porthos released d’Artagnan, the boy taking the phone from Athos’ hand and raising it to his ear with sensible apprehension. Athos stepped back towards his large sleek town-car, where Aramis was waiting, happy to lean his weight against Porthos who tucked in beside him. They were very tactile for Vampires, just as Athos was the very opposite. He still stood close to Aramis though, too used to his friends’ touches by now. It amused his Maker no end.

 

None of them even pretended that they weren’t listening in on d’Artagnan and Général Bonacieux’s conversation.

 

“Of all the comprehensively _stupid_ things you’ve done, d’Artagnan, your father taught you better than this, _I_ taught you better than this!”

 

“Constance, I…”

 

“Did you even know that you were going after _one of King Louis’ favoured Musketeers_?! Not only that, a Musketeer who’s not known for his tolerance of humanity?”

 

D’Artagnan darted a look towards Athos, Aramis waved at him with an entertained grin. “You’re famous, Athos.”

 

“Just what I’ve always wanted.”

 

Général Bonacieux was not letting d’Artagnan say much. “…And I know this has been hard for you, we all miss your father, even Jacques and don’t get me started on the fact that you listened to him instead of me.”

 

“ _Constance_. I’m sorry, I…I just finally got a lead and I couldn’t not know and…”

 

“ _Got a lead_ ,” Général Bonacieux sounded dangerous now. “Tell me you didn’t use my name to crack open any police files that you had no business even knowing about.”

 

“I didn’t! I swear.”

 

D’Artagnan looked offended now and he was telling the truth. Athos cocked his head and looked at the boy, he really was a pretty sight and he knew enough vampire etiquette to be impressive and more than a little alluring. He was a treat, as Aramis might say. Aramis and Porthos weren’t interested in him though, they never shared men now - previous forays in that direction had ended very badly and had a name that was never spoken – Marsac. In fact, there was only one exception to that rule; Athos. Athos fed regularly from live donors and when he felt the irresistible urge, he found someone to fuck as well, because according to Aramis and Porthos, he was a steaming pain to live with when he wasn’t getting laid. If they had their way, he'd be out every night. He enjoyed their intimate company though; they were the exception to his rule too. He trusted them.

 

The fact was that, despite the abrupt absurdity of their introduction to one another, Athos was drawn to d’Artagnan and from the darting glances and potent smell of arousal; d’Artagnan was just as interested in him. It was a peculiar situation and another one to amuse his Maker, Athos expected to get a call soon from Methodius, inquiring about the sudden sexual interest he was feeling, was Athos ill?

 

Aramis snickered, his expression full of mirth. “Congratulations, you might have finally graduated past adolescence.”

 

“And of course it's someone who tried to kill you,” added Porthos, just as amused.

 

“I can have you uninvited.”

 

“Ha. Agnes likes us far too much for that.”

 

It was sadly true. Athos sighed, his gaze drawn back to d'Artagnan, and made a decision. He was aware that it had been a considerable amount of time since he had thought about anyone, human or vampire, in the way that he was currently thinking about d'Artagnan. And of course it would be a human, a young one at that, and yes, one who had attempted to end him. It was a ridiculous idea, but he'd sworn to his Maker that he wouldn't let Milady ruin the rest of his existence and after several decades spent trying to forget her and everything else in the most unhealthy manner possible, Athos had recently, finally, been able to truly begin obeying the command.

 

Aramis nudged him gently. “You could do a lot worse. And it'll infuriate Milady.”

 

That was true, but probably not the healthiest reason to want to spend time with someone. Yes, Athos was very interested in tasting d'Artagnan and he did have an idea, one that would suitably punish d'Artagnan for his actions, help out Général Bonacieux, and allow Athos to explore this possibility. D'Artagnan stirred something in him, that was reason enough to get to know d’Artagnan better. And from Aramis and Porthos' expression they weren't getting any red flags from the Human.

 

Athos abruptly stepped away from the car and held out a hand to d'Artagnan. d'Artagnan glanced at him for a moment and then handed the phone over without a word, a very relieved look on his face. Général Bonacieux had made sure that he knew how displeased she was, as well as she should.

 

“Général, if you’re willing, d’Artagnan can become my day man here. Currently my…housemates and I share a day person between us and she recently became a mother. It would be a good punishment for the boy, relieve him of returning to Gascony and give you and your husband some time and space together.”

 

D’Artagnan’s eyes widened but he didn’t protest, he looked intrigued. Général Bonacieux made a considering sound and Athos made his way back to the car, sliding into the back and closing the door firmly.

 

“Only my friends will hear us now, and they’ll know not to repeat anything,” he assured her. “The boy hasn’t any prejudices or attitudes that will cause problems here?”

 

“He treats some vampires with more derision that he should, but he’s the same with some Humans. Growing up amongst vampires has made him a little blasé.”

 

“So if he met a particularly hardline Général …”

 

“He might tell them what he thought of them, yes,” Général Bonacieux sighed. “I haven’t allowed him to visit other cities very often because there’s no telling what he might say or do, even though he knows the consequences.”

 

“A quick temper, but he knows protocol.”

 

“Absolutely. And his father was the best day man I’ve ever had. It’s a very kind offer, but I know you work closely with Directeur Général Treville and the King might…”

 

“Général, I don’t enjoy the company of Humans. Believe me, nothing short of an order from my Maker or my King could force me to spend time with most people, but d’Artagnan has interested me. That’s rare and I would like to know him better.”

 

There was a surprised thoughtful pause. “You want him to become your pet?”

 

“While he’s here, I’ll have to claim him, he’s beautiful and has the sort of sharp attitude that could gain the attention of Vampires that I doubt he’d enjoy the company of. It won’t be a hardship for me, do you think he’d be amenable?”

 

“He’s never been offended by the concept of being claimed and if he assures me that he wants the same thing, I have no problem with him becoming Yours.”

 

Athos’ smile twitched triumphantly. The idea of d’Artagnan as his was extremely pleasing. Yes, Methodius was definitely going to call him.

 

“If he misbehaves, particularly publicly, I will punish him.”

 

“Good. I haven’t cosseted him and he respects me as a Vampire and as Sheriff, but he’s known me all his life. Threats from me can only go so far.”

 

Athos nodded. Of course, d’Artagnan probably viewed Général Bonacieux almost like family, which was quite a thought. A Vampire aunt or sister. No wonder the boy treated Vampires so casually, to him they were part of his everyday life, nothing special and perhaps nothing to be feared either. How did other Gascon Vampires view him?

 

“I’ll have him call you regularly. I’m sorry for any communication you’ll have with the Cardinal.”

 

“I hold d’Artagnan responsible for that, not you. And I’m glad he’ll get to learn from you, he could have insulted a much less amenable Vampire.”

 

Athos wondered how much Général Bonacieux knew about him. There were many stories about Athos, about what he’d done alone and about his misadventures with Aramis and Porthos. They were only three of the Vampire King of France’s Musketeers, but they had become notable through their vicious exploits on his behalf. King Louis himself especially valued them, which was why they were still his Musketeers and why they’d chosen to come back to live in Paris. Sometimes the Human authorities, the French President included, tried to pin violent incidents on the trio and their comrades, or conversely they asked the Musketeers for help with certain Parisian problems. The more things changed…

 

Athos finished up his call to Général Bonacieux and took a moment to himself before stepping outside. Aramis and Porthos probably thought this was hilarious. Like Athos, neither of them were the kind of Vampire who had pets. Aramis loved beauty in Vampires and Humans, but his admiration was restricted to brief but thorough encounters. The only one he had any long-term interest in was Porthos, a conclusion he’d come to about a century after their first meeting. Porthos had been remarkably patient, he’d realised that Aramis was the one for him within a decade or two of first laying eyes on him.

 

And here was Athos, agreeing to take on a Human pet, as a political move, because the Cardinal would no doubt wish to possess d’Artagnan, likely believing that the boy could gain him Général Bonacieux’s favour and confidence, always useful when trying to control a country. Or perhaps he’d think that d’Artagnan had found out about Milady’s connection to him or that the boy could reveal Athos, Aramis, and Porthos’ weak spots. The Cardinal was obsessed with ridding France of the King’s Musketeers. What did King Louis need them for? The Cardinal’s Red Guards were much more loyal and trustworthy; the Guards didn’t have the Musketeers’ ‘unstable’ reputation either.

 

Unstable. If the Cardinal claimed any of his Vampire Guards were stable, he was more of a liar than Athos gave him credit for.

 

Still, Athos had d’Artagnan now, a fact which made something heat under his skin, a very unusual sensation. And the thought of d’Artagnan’s skin, Athos’ teeth breaking it, made Athos’ mouth water. His fangs dropped down and he took a moment to withdraw them. There was only so much mocking from Aramis and Porthos that he could take tonight.

 

He exited the car and addressed d’Artagnan, throwing him his phone. “You’re Mine while in Paris. Général Bonacieux and I think you could do with more of an education. If you don’t believe me, call her.”

 

D’Artagnan was staring down at his phone in slight shock, thumbing through what Athos assumed was a text message. Général Bonacieux was likely ensuring that d’Artagnan obeyed instructions. D’Artagnan swallowed, his throat bobbing very temptingly.

 

Athos refocused. “You’ll be part of my day staff. I expect that tomorrow night we’ll be visited by Directeur Général Treville and one of the Cardinal’s men, if not the Cardinal himself. You’re a piece in his game now, I’m afraid.”

 

Aramis clapped a hand to d’Artagnan’s shoulder. “There’s plenty of room at the Comte de la Fère’s mansion.”

 

Athos slanted his eyebrows at such a description as d’Artagnan paled a little. “You’re the Comte de la…”

 

Porthos laughed. “I think you broke him.”

 

“Pity. That should have been Athos’ job.”

 

Athos rolled his eyes and opened the car boot. Porthos grinned and quickly swept d’Artagnan up into his arms, dropping the very surprised human into the boot before he could even begin struggling.

 

“What-.”

 

“Lesson one, any action taken against a Vampire has consequences.”

 

D’Artagnan began protesting and tried to struggle out, which Porthos easily prevented, until Athos met d’Artagnan’s gaze firmly and cut in. “I don’t hurt Humans for fun, but I am not reluctant to use violence if you push me.”

 

D’Artagnan nodded slowly, there was something yearning in his expression that squeezed Athos’ insides. That was something best explored at a later date. D’Artagnan yelped when Athos went to close the car boot.

 

“You can’t leave me in here!”

 

“You’re not claustrophobic?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then you’ll survive.”

 

Athos shut it without another word, ignoring the loud bangs caused by d’Artagnan knocking his fists against the underside of the boot. Athos got behind the wheel, Aramis and Porthos took up the backseat.

 

“Once again I feel like your chauffeur.”

 

Aramis made a considering noise. “I’ll buy you a hat for Christmas.”

 

Porthos was chuckling at the noise d’Artagnan was making. “Think he’ll keep that up the whole way?”

 

“Probably,” Athos drove neatly away from the bar that they’d spent a large part of the evening in. “He’s got spirit.”

 

“Mmm, and a few other attributes that you’re interested in.”

 

“Funny how that made you come over all altruistic.”

 

Athos shot a glance at his friends, who were both smirking, their limbs intertwined. They looked like a pair of Weres rather than Vampires. No wonder other Vampires continued to underestimate them, never quite comprehending them as highly-respected elders and Musketeers. He shook his head.

 

“I’m sure the two of you will be _wonderful_ influences on him.”

 

Aramis snorted but looked like a little more serious. “His Mistress was right, he could have come to a very sticky end if he’d been pointed in most other Vampires’ direction.”

 

“So we educate him?” Porthos sounded understandably doubtful. “Is he housetrained?”

 

“According to Général Bonacieux, that’s not his primary problem.”

 

Aramis hmmmed. “And he caught your attention. Should we check him for particularly ruthless homicidal urges?”

 

“That would make him appealing to most Vampires,” Athos pointed out.

 

“And if he asks questions?” Porthos wanted to know.

 

Athos shrugged slightly, his eyes on the road. “Use your best judgement. He kept Général Bonacieux’s secret before the Great Revelation.”

 

His friends lapsed into contemplative silence until Aramis leaned forward to switch on the car radio, allowing new recordings of seventeenth century opera to waft over them all. There was a great deal to think about, and yet it felt remarkably like a good night. Athos mulled over such an idea as his home, which hadn’t felt like home again until Aramis and Porthos had begun living there with him, drew closer.


	2. Sweet Home

 

 

There was only about an hour left before sunrise by the time the car reached Athos’ house. He parked quickly and joined Aramis and Porthos at back of the vehicle. D’Artagnan had gone quiet, but he was still breathing and not having a panic attack. Porthos and Aramis opened the boot together, unnecessary but they did like to make an impression. D’Artagnan glared up at them but didn’t try anything. Good.

 

Athos beckoned him and d’Artagnan slowly levered himself out. Aramis looked him up and down as though checking out a meal. D’Artagnan shot him an unimpressed look. Aramis laughed and cocking a head towards the house, headed inside beside Porthos. They were allowed Athos at least a veil of privacy while he had this talk with d’Artagnan, though he knew that they’d be listening in avidly.

 

“You can spend the day here. Agnes will arrive at around 6am, with her infant son. And before you ask, we don’t feed from either of them. We don’t have long until sunrise so listen to Agnes, she’ll teach you everything you need to know about being day staff here. Try to nap at some point because we’ll want to talk to you when we rise.”

 

D’Artagnan nodded, some kind of tension easing from him, and looked at Athos, frowning as though trying to work something out. Athos raised an eyebrow.

 

“Ask. Staring won’t get you answers.”

 

“I just…I tried to kill you and you’re taking me in.”

 

Athos stepped deep into d’Artagnan's personal space. He enjoyed d’Artagnan’s smell and made sure that d’Artagnan noticed that enjoyment.

 

“Make no mistake, this is not a holiday. The Cardinal will try to gain you for leverage against us and I’d rather have you here where we can keep an eye on you.”

 

D’Artagnan looked as though he understood. “Will you find the people who killed my father?”

 

It was Athos’ turn to be taken aback, though it didn’t show in his expression. “You believe it wasn’t me?”

 

“You said the Directeur Général will vouch for you. Constance told me that Directeur Général Treville is honest and fair, that whenever she’s dealt with him he’s done exactly what he’d said he would and that she’d heard about the killings you told me about. The Flying Horse is just outside Paris so it does make sense.”

 

He sounded and smelled sorrowful, and he clearly trusted Constance and her opinions entirely. Athos shifted from foot to foot but he didn’t step back.

 

“The King isn’t happy about anti-Vampire sentiment being stirred up so it is my duty to see the cause eradicated.”

 

D’Artagnan looked resoundingly grateful. “Thank you. I…I do want to learn.”

 

“And I want to teach you.”

 

The moment was charged but d’Artagnan didn’t try to touch Athos. Good, he’d learned how very untactile most Vampires were or perhaps he’d already noticed Athos’ attitude. Either way, it was pleasing to see and d’Artagnan smelled aroused and interested which only helped.

 

“You’re, you’re actually interested, in me,” he tried slowly, as though he wasn’t sure he should be saying it.

 

Athos nodded slightly. “Should you notice another Vampire’s interest in you, don’t point it out to them. They summon you, not the other way around.”

 

D’Artagnan frowned slightly. “I’m not interested in other Vampires.”

 

That was extremely good to hear and Athos let out a curl of a growl. It only made d’Artagnan shiver, his eyes darkening. How very responsive he was.

 

“So if any Vampires show interest in you, you tell them that you’re Mine. If any try to glamour or force you away, call for me or for Aramis or Porthos.”

 

“I can take care of myself.”

 

Ah the crux of it. D’Artagnan had grown up around Vampires, of course he felt as though he could handle them easily, despite all etiquette and common sense to the contrary.

 

“I don’t doubt that you’ve been taught how to defend yourself. You’ve been trained; your little display earlier when you went for me indicated that. But surely it makes sense that when faced with a monster, you call on equally powerful help. It’s logic, not weakness.”

 

“So _you’d_ call for help?”

 

Athos looked amused at d’Artagnan’s crossed arms and belligerent tone. How quickly things changed.

 

“As I sometimes find myself facing off against Vampires who believe that ending Athos of the King’s Musketeers would be a great achievement to boast of, I often have to defend myself. But rest assured, Aramis and Porthos jump in whenever necessary and I do the same for them. There’s being proud and there’s being ended.”

 

D’Artagnan was still scowling but he let his arms drop.

 

“Just because I’m Yours, people are going to expect me to be…”

 

He looked too furious to actually say any more so Athos helped him out.

 

“Beautiful but delicate? Helpless? Easily led? Yes. Vampires and Humans are going to resent you. You'll likely experience threats and worse because I’m connected to the King and people will assume that because I never keep pets, you must be important and that therefore I'd do anything to protect you.”

 

D’Artagnan eyed him. “You never keep pets?”

 

“As a rule, no.”

 

“So why take me in if it’s going to bring you that much trouble?”

 

Athos leaned in a little, allowing himself a momentary appreciation of d’Artagnan’s neck, then he pulled back, enjoying d’Artagnan’s expression.

 

“As you said, I’m interested in you, and I haven’t been interested in anyone, let alone a Human, for a very long time. That’s worth pursuing.”

 

D’Artagnan looked a little overwhelmed but managed to nod. Athos inched even closer.

 

“And you? Are you _interested_?”

 

D’Artagnan gave him a look. “I know you can smell the answer to that.”

 

“Of course. But I’d still like to hear you say it.”

 

D’Artagnan bit his lip and suddenly looked almost coy. “Is that an order?”

 

Athos’ fangs ran down. “Do you _want_ it to be an order?”

 

D’Artagnan looked transfixed by the fangs, in a good way. His fingers twitched but he didn’t reach for them. The two of them stared at each other. Athos was sure that Aramis and Porthos were listening extremely closely. He didn't care.

 

He ran his knuckles across d'Artagnan's jaw, relishing the boy's gasp and pupil dilation. It had been many years since he'd volunteered such a gentle touch, especially to a Human.

 

“Yes,” the boy sighed, pressing into the touch shamelessly. “Yes, I'm interested.”

 

Athos' smile tugged upwards and he nodded. There was a good feeling burning inside of him, so different to how he'd felt with Milady when everything had been all consuming, very literally it’d turned out. This was different, an extremely good thing.

 

“Then we play our parts publicly and progress together privately.”

 

D’Artagnan nodded and then Athos wrapped a firm hand around the back of d’Artagnan’s neck. D’Artagnan didn’t look frightened by the strength of Athos’ grip; instead he looked even more turned on. The smell was distracting, but Athos kept his gaze extremely strong and focused.

 

“I can’t be anything other than what I am. If you can’t deal with that, you will tell me.”

 

That was an order. D’Artagnan’s gaze darted from Athos’ fangs to his strong arms and back to his face again. He didn’t look confused. Thanks to his upbringing, he had to know that Vampires were dominant territorial creatures and that the most a relationship between a Vampire and a Human was expected to be was that of a consumer and a product. Athos wanted to _devour_ d’Artagnan, but he wanted to converse with him too, to teach him and learn more about him. It wasn’t unheard of, but it was rare.

 

D’Artagnan swallowed, the motion trembling against Athos’ thumb. Athos let out another rough sound and d’Artagnan’s heartbeat picked up again. He smelled of arousal and excitement; fear only a slight edge. It seemed that they might be well suited indeed.

 

“You’ll listen to me?”

 

“When I can.”

 

D’Artagnan nodded in understanding. “I’m Yours.”

 

This time, Athos’ growl was loud and he lunged close to run his fangs along d’Artagnan’s neck. He could hear d’Artagnan’s blood pumping…but the dawn was close. He kissed the delicate skin of d’Artagnan’s throat, enjoying the whimper he got in response.

 

He pulled back regretfully, feeling like a newborn. He heard Aramis and Porthos speed away to one of the properties located a few fields across; it was light-tight so they could safely rest there all day. He nudged another couple of fingers against d’Artagnan’s chin, enjoying how the boy reacted to the touch. Had he been fed on by many Vampires? Had he slept with any? Possessive interest curled through Athos and increased his grip.

 

“Tell Agnes you’ve been to Athens.”

 

That way Agnes would know that d’Artagnan was to be trusted. Athos drew back regretfully, he really did have to go.

 

“I’ll meet you here at dark.”

 

Athos didn’t question the fact that Athos was going to rest outside of his home, so he had to know about the importance of resting places and why their location wasn’t told to someone Athos had only just met. His eyes were hungry on Athos though and Athos thought about the way that d’Artagnan had moved and sliced with that stake and knife, unshakable anger fuelling his movements. He had been a vengeful vision. Athos licked his lips and sped away.


	3. Ground Rules

 

 

Athos’ first thoughts when he rose were wrapped up in d’Artagnan. A bad sign or a good one, depending on the perspective. Athos had spent about half a century not caring if he was ended or not, a half century in which his Maker had been utterly furious with him and Aramis and Porthos had been tight-lipped and had refused to leave him alone. Now the thought of them leaving made something like alarm surge through him.

 

Eventually he'd come out of his near-suicidal mood and had subsequently spent every decade since doing his utmost to protect King Louis and to help Directeur Général Treville police the Vampire community of Paris, one of many thriving Musketeers despite the Cardinal’s wish that the Musketeers to be replaced by his Red Guards.

 

And now here Athos was, caring for a Human. It was a strange thought, but one that warmed him, thinking of d'Artagnan. Being warm had been a foreign concept for Athos for a very long time.

 

Once the sun had fully set, Athos dressed and sped quickly back to his mansion. He turned his phone on – no messages from Methodius yet. He was probably biding his time or planning a sudden visit. Athos concentrated for a moment; no, he couldn't sense his Maker moving closer yet. Still, that was no guarantee. Methodius rarely gave warning, he liked to appear and enjoy the attention that he was due as Athos' Maker. Truthfully, Athos was usually quietly pleased to see him. He knew he was lucky; he could have had a Maker like Porthos'.

 

Agnes had left a letter on the kitchen table, telling him about the emails she'd forwarded onto him, visitors that had called, and details of her baby's progress. She knew that many Vampires assumed that the reason Athos employed her was to breed himself a blood bank. She understood why he let them think that.

 

Her letter ended with her opinion of d'Artagnan – he'd been well trained, but she didn't know how he'd behave around or be treated by other Vampires. That had been Athos' opinion too. Agnes added that she'd enjoyed d'Artagnan's company and thought that he'd be a good day man, if he wasn't soon sleeping when Athos was at rest instead. Athos smiled, so d'Artagnan's behaviour had clued her into what he was planning. That was good to hear.

 

Athos warmed up a bag of blood, listening to Aramis several rooms away explaining to d'Artagnan about Agnes. Porthos was interjecting to keep Aramis' embellishments to a minimum. Athos took his first sip of blood.

 

“And thankfully for us all she decided to stay. She'd been looking for work and we couldn't think of a better person to run our lives while the sun’s up.”

 

D'Artagnan smelled contented and very curious, he was eager to know more. Athos enjoyed the scent.

 

“Is her baby a Shifter like its father?”

 

“We could smell that as soon as we met the pair of them,” Porthos replied. “Agnes reckons he'll be good security for this place when we're resting, just in case she gets visitors she can't handle. It does happen.”

 

“What do you use for security at the moment?”

 

“Athos has a good relationship with the local packmaster. He's happy to help out Directeur Général Treville with matters that require fur and fleas. A couple of Weres check in here twice a day and stay within range so if Agnes needs them fast, they'll hear her.”

 

Porthos snorted at Aramis' derogative attitude towards the Weres. “Of course you've never taken a walk on the wild side...”

 

“I never said that.”

 

Athos shook his head as he drained his glass and reached for another bag of blood. He liked to start off his day with a couple of bags, just in case. He could sense d'Artagnan's slight apprehension. What was he going to ask?

 

“You two are...”

 

“Devilishly handsome?”

 

“And charming.”

 

D'Artagnan's smile and eye roll were practically audible. “Of course. I mean, you're...most Vampires I've met don't touch _anyone_ unless they're fighting or after a meal.”

 

Porthos' laugh was a rich delight. It made Athos smile as much as Aramis' smile. “Are you feeling left out?”

 

D'Artagnan didn't sound disgusted when he laughingly replied, always a good sign. Athos found himself motionless, keen on hearing the rest of the conversation.

 

“We share meals,” Aramis said at last. “Lovers too.”

 

“But we only rest next to each other.”

 

D'Artagnan's smelled thoughtful. “Marriage is political with most Vampires here too, isn't it?”

 

“Yep, keeps a few countries in accord, sometimes there's no other tie that works better for peace,” agreed Porthos. “Your Général married for love, did she?”

 

“Honestly, I'm not sure. They've been together for almost a century and I don't really get it, but she tells me she likes what she's got with him so...”

 

“Even if he's taken a disliking to you.”

 

D'Artagnan snorted. “He's jealous.”

 

Aramis laughed. “It’s very much our nature to be territorial. A re you're going to be able to handle that with Athos? You'll have to be extremely careful when you're talking to other Vampires from now on.”

 

“I know. I can talk to you though.”

 

Porthos took over. “Of course, but then most people assume we share everything anyway.”

 

Athos decided that now was the time to enter the conversation so he sped to the room and paused in the doorway. Porthos and Aramis were sharing a sofa, both in jeans and comfortable shirts. They weren't quite intertwined but they were closer and more affectionate together than most Vampires. The sight of them just made something ease in Athos.

 

D'Artagnan was sat on the sofa opposite, in scruffy jeans and a faded sports t-shirt. He smelled aroused when he looked at Athos. Athos sat down next to him, drinking his second mug of blood. D'Artagnan eyed it.

 

“Do you live on banked blood?”

 

Athos shook his head. “We all use willing donors, but the fridge is kept stocked.”

 

Aramis got to his feet. “Which reminds me, Agnes ordered donors for us. They'll be arriving shortly.”

 

“You can take it from here?” Porthos asked Athos with a smirk.

 

Athos raised an eyebrow and the pair sped off, laughing. D'Artagnan shook his head.

 

“There aren't many Vampires like that in Gascony.”

 

“I doubt you'd find many like them in France,” Athos replied, draining the last drop of blood from the mug and setting it down on the coffee table in front of him. “They've been together for several centuries now and still haven't grown tired of each other's company. Some monarchs and Générals have attempted to leverage them apart, believing it would weaken our King.”

 

“’Attempted’ being the keyword.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

“How long have you known them?”

 

Athos smiled slightly, he could remember Aramis in priest's robes and a near-feral Porthos, driven half-mad by his cruel Maker.

 

“Almost as long as they've known each other.”

 

D'Artagnan was clearly waiting for more and huffed out a breath when Athos didn't continue. “That's it?”

 

Athos smile increased a little and his hand deliberately strayed to d'Artagnan's knee. D'Artagnan's gaze flickered down to watch Athos stroke his leg; he didn't smell upset or angry. Good, he hadn't just been responding to adrenaline and his Sheriff's commands the previous night.

 

“They'd both been turned before I met them. Aramis was still trying to be a priest and he'd just gotten to know Porthos-.”

 

“Aramis was a priest?!”

 

Athos raised amused eyebrows at the interruption, d'Artagnan didn't apologise but he did realise his mistake. “I won't do that in public, I know. But a priest?”

 

“He's always loved God, but he has also always loved the company of men and women. His Maker saw his beauty and I'm told, couldn't resist him. Thankfully, he remains on good terms with her.”

 

Celeste was an exceptional beauty herself and was very proud of her Child. She visited Aramis every few decades and generally, they had a decent relationship. Not a close one perhaps, but cordial.

 

“So he tried being a priest after he was turned. That didn't end well?”

 

Athos shifted closer to d'Artagnan, enjoying how d'Artagnan's heartrate kicked up. “For a time he was able to refashion himself as a devout man who prayed all day in seclusion and who was available for visitors after sundown. Then sadly one day a fellow priest saw him drinking from a very willing woman and tried to kill him. Aramis still wears his cross, but he had to give up the priesthood.”

 

d'Artagnan still looked amused at the idea of Aramis as a chaste man of the cloth. Athos squeezed d’Artagnan’s knee. “I've never known anyone as devout as him.”

 

Aramis’ religious beliefs tended to amuse other Vampires a great deal and they were often the cause of a lot of insults. Not that Aramis couldn't handle that sort of talk with a few pithy words of his own, but still Athos knew that it hurt Aramis as much as it angered him. The look in Athos’ eyes was a warning that d'Artagnan took heed of, the young man nodding and inching closer with a quizzical look; still clearly attempting to find out where the boundaries lay here. It was good to see that he wasn't just assuming.

 

“And Porthos? Don't tell me he was a priest too.”

 

Athos managed something like a laugh. “Sadly no. He grew up here in Paris, in the slums known as the Court of Miracles. A lot of Vampires hid there before the Great Revelation, it was the kind of place that few people ventured into. His Maker turned him without Porthos' consent; he bled after a particularly bad fight.”

 

“And the Vampire smelled it.”

 

Athos nodded. “Blood can be easily resisted once a newborn learns how to control their bloodlust. This Vampire however was an older creature known for his cruelty and he wanted Porthos' strength. He used Porthos for a lot of things, things that Porthos never speaks of. I was told to rid the slums of the terror that was cutting through Paris' Human population. I met Aramis, who was trying to save his new friend, and I ended Porthos' Maker.”

 

D’Artagnan sucked in a sharp breath, shocked. He raised a hand, as though he was thinking of touching Athos'. Athos held his gaze and waited to see if d'Artagnan would discern his order correctly. D'Artagnan's fingers were warm and oddly comforting. He smelled of whatever he'd eaten for dinner, but he'd showered and brushed his teeth afterwards which was very good etiquette.

 

“How did Porthos...? I mean, obviously he lives here now but how long did he...?”

 

Athos took pity on d'Artagnan's half-formed sentences. “As his Maker spent most of his time torturing his Children through their Maker-Child bond and forcing them to commit crimes that would have gotten them executed if discovered, he was grateful once he was conscious again.”

 

D’Artagnan let silence fall as he mulled over Athos’ explanation. Athos watched him. D’Artagnan apparently didn’t need to be told how potent a Maker-Child bond was, that while Porthos was grateful to be freed from such a torturous existence, he’d suffered debilitating pain after his Maker’s end. Some of Porthos’ siblings hadn’t been thrilled though, the ones who had enjoyed that life. Athos and Aramis had had to end them too. It had been a bloody night.

 

“Why are you telling me all this?” d’Artagnan asked abruptly.

 

Athos smiled slightly. D’Artagnan knew that such personal details about Vampire’s former lives were rarely discussed, particularly with Humans. Truthfully, Athos, Aramis, and Porthos only usually spoke about such things with each other, sometimes with Treville or the King if he asked.

 

He ran a considering curve of fingers down d’Artagnan’s cheek. “When the fact that you’re mine becomes public knowledge, there’re people who will tell you about me and my friends. They’ll want you to be disgusted and repulsed.”

 

“They’ll want me to leave you.”

 

“We don’t mainstream and we don’t yearn to be anything other than what we are. We’ve learned to enjoy and embrace this existence. You’ll likely see us fight, maybe kill too. If you’re entering this agreement thinking that we’re merely Human with only a few surface differences, then think again.”

 

D’Artagnan stared at him hard and then straightened up, leaning closer so that his warm breath touched Athos’ face. It was a pleasant sensation.

 

“I know that for some reason you think everything was peaceful and quiet in Gascony, but I saw Constance and Jacques kill. I’ve seen Vampires burned by the sun and I’ve seen them heal from horrible injuries. I _know_ Vampires, all the blood and guts and really stupid politics. You’re not Human, I _know_ that.”

 

Athos pressed in close and sudden for a kiss. D’Artagnan responded immediately, wrapping his arms around Athos’ neck with an urgency and firmness that made Athos’ chest rumble. He pushed d’Artagnan down and lay on top of him, deepening the kiss. D’Artagnan moaned, his cock thickening under Athos’ thigh. That couldn’t be faked; neither could the thick scent of lust that now surrounded them both.

 

D’Artagnan licked at Athos’ fangs, they’d run down in the heat of the moment. Athos slowed the kiss, silently enjoying the pliant mess that d’Artagnan had become. D’Artagnan shown eagerness and desire; he knew what he wanted and he went for it. Good. One of the reasons Athos didn’t spend a lot of time with Humans was the way most of them behaved around Vampires – they were either hostile and judgemental or they were exaggeratedly docile, playacting of the most ridiculous kind. D’Artagnan had been instinctive and genuine, he’d given control over to Athos, but he’d made his own desires known as well.

 

Athos ground his hips downwards and d’Artagnan moaned loudly.

 

“Hate to interrupt but Treville is about half an hour away.”

 

Aramis spoke quietly, he was upstairs and it sounded like he was doing something to his phone. Athos pulled away from d’Artagnan with a sound of regret, especially when d’Artagnan dug fingers into Athos’ back, trying to urge him down again.

 

“Directeur Général Treville will be here in half an hour,” Athos said by way of explanation. “You’re comfortable with my touch, that’ll help.”

 

D’Artagnan levered himself up with a sigh but his eyes gleamed with mischief. “So you did that just to make this believable in public?”

 

Athos curled fingers into d’Artagnan’s t-shirt and tugged the boy into a long satisfying kiss that made d’Artagnan whimper.

 

“Not _just_ for that.”

 

D’Artagnan shoved at his chest with a carefree hand. Amused, Athos moved back a little, allowing d’Artagnan space to right himself.

 

“I smell like you now, that’s good too, right?”

 

Mmm, it was. Athos leaned in and nipped lightly at d’Artagnan’s lips. “Very. Call Général Bonacieux.”

 

D’Artagnan gave a mock salute but favoured Athos with a lingering hungry look before leaving the room to make his call. He’d obeyed, but he hadn’t adjusted who he was. It was a very appealing mix. Athos straightened his own shirt; he’d chosen slacks and a button-down that morning. Thankfully his satellite resting places were always fully stocked with suitable clothing.

 

A couple of floors above him, he could hear Aramis and Porthos singing, and it wasn’t anything complimentary. But Athos’ lips still twitched upwards.


	4. Maker's Call

 

 

Treville arrived promptly and without ceremony. Still, Athos bowed his head neatly and respectfully, and then indicated for d’Artagnan to walk forward. D’Artagnan looked only slightly anxious, like he didn’t want to let anyone down.

 

Treville looked at him with a thorough gaze and then turned back to Athos. “ _He_ tried to end you?”

 

Athos allowed himself to smile a little. It was true that d’Artagnan didn’t look like much of a threat. There was an amused noise from Aramis, he was stood close by with Porthos.

 

“I didn’t say he’d come close to succeeding,” Aramis pointed out.

 

Treville hmmed and addressed d’Artagnan. “I’ve talked to your Général, apparently you’re not usually in the habit of successfully hiding your intentions from her and running off to end one of the King’s Musketeers.”

 

D’Artagnan grimaced painfully; Athos had overheard his most recent conversation with Constance. She’d had a long talk with Treville apparently and had sent him a thick file on d’Artagnan. She’d also told d’Artagnan that he had to behave well, her definition of good behaviour, not his. D’Artagnan had sounded exasperated by her instructions but hadn’t refused. He’d smelled hurt too, perhaps he’d misread Constance’s firm orders as mistrust. Well, he’d have to re-earn her trust. Vampires had long memories.

 

D’Artagnan spoke now. “My father’s killer hasn’t been caught yet, I heard news of who it was and…I didn’t think beyond getting revenge for my father.”

 

“You didn’t think,” Treville repeated flatly. “You’ll have to learn.”

 

“I will. I know how badly this reflects on Général Bonacieux…”

 

Treville lifted a hand for silence and d’Artagnan immediately stopped talking. He could be tantalisingly obedient.

 

“You've lived with Général Bonacieux since birth?”

 

“On her property, yes.”

 

Treville nodded as though his suspicions had been confirmed. “You haven’t been disciplined enough. Général Bonacieux would probably agree with me. Athos will remedy that.”

 

“I look forward to it.”

 

Porthos smirked and Aramis leaned into him. Athos slid a glance towards d’Artagnan and then looked back towards Treville who looked vaguely amused as well.

 

“You were right, Aramis.”

 

Aramis half-bowed and before Athos could ask exactly what Aramis and Treville had somehow agreed on, Treville continued talking as though there hadn’t been a pause at all.

 

“The Cardinal wants to meet him of course and as you told me about your claim before dawn and I can confirm it, he won’t be permitted to question your pet alone. The King also wants to meet him.”

 

That was unusual and a worry. The King often wanted to be entertained, he’d known Athos for several centuries and usually called on him for military conversations. Sometimes he asked Athos to be his personal guard. The King also appreciated beautiful things, so he’d enjoy meeting d’Artagnan. Athos hoped, his fingers clenching into a fist, that the King wouldn’t immediately order for d’Artagnan to be handed over to him. It’d happened before to other Vampire subjects.

 

“An honour,” Athos offered aloud.

 

Treville’s expression communicated exactly what he thought about the King’s orders. “So we won’t keep him waiting.”

 

Treville’s car was waiting, driven by one of his pets, and he indicated for the others to follow him in Athos’ car. Porthos offered to drive, pointing out it’d look better if Athos was seen to be enjoying the backseat with d’Artagnan. Aramis was more than happy to take up the passenger seat, his hand firm on Porthos’ thigh. They looked at each other with the kind of emotion that made Athos feel stirred and also made an ache blossom numbly deep in his chest. Milady was only a vague pain now, but still a pain nonetheless. His phone rang just as d’Artagnan chose to sit close to him, their thighs almost touching. Athos pressed a cold hand to d’Artagnan’s knee, revelling in knowing that the boy was his.

 

“I assume you have happy news to share?”

 

Methodius sounded wry and pleased. Athos was glad that he could still please his Maker. He knew he wasn’t Methodius’ favourite Child, but he also knew that he was appreciated. That was enough.

 

“I have decided to take on a pet,” he said, sensing d’Artagnan’s interest in the conversation and Aramis and Porthos’ sudden quiet. “A Human boy. His father was killed by a Vampire using my name; he sought me out without his Mistress’ knowledge.”

 

“Ah, so becoming your pet is a fitting punishment for him,” Methodius sounded pleased again. “But not for you?”

 

Athos’ gaze lingered on d’Artagnan, his fine-featured face, his olive skin, his slim wiry build. “No, a pleasure for me.”

 

Methodius made a pleased noise. “Good. I’ll visit Paris within the month to meet him. He had a Mistress already?”

 

“The Général of Gascony. He’s known her his whole life so he knows protocols but his discipline is lax. He’s also met Milady.”

 

“You’re not still playing games with her?”

 

“I’m staying as far from her as possible. We’re to visit the Cardinal and the King today, to present d’Artagnan.”

 

Methodius’ silence said a lot, he had no time for politics though he was skilled enough at them. He’d never been any monarch’s Knight, or Musketeer as King Louis preferred to name those loyal and skilled enough to be counted so favoured. But Methodius was valued for his scholarly nature and knowledge and for the fact that all of his Children had become experts in their chosen fields. He was a much-admired Maker.

 

“Take precautions,” Methodius advised at last. “If that old vulture the Cardinal attempts any kind of coup, make sure it’s known that I’m sending Ninon to advise the King.”

 

Athos’ smile almost broadened. Ninon, his sister, Methodius’ third Child, was headstrong and sharp-tongued and was a close friend of Queen Anne. She had saved the Queen’s life on two occasions and was almost as confident with a gun and a blade as she was with words and her own teeth. Athos enjoyed her company whenever they crossed paths. They rarely sought each other out, both too independent for constant contact.

 

Once Athos had sent his Maker a picture of d’Artagnan, Methodius ended the call. Aramis twisted around to tap Athos on the leg.

 

“You’ve made an old man very happy.”

 

Athos raised an eyebrow. “I’ll tell him that you’re looking forward to discussing twelfth century religious disciplines with him again.”

 

Aramis groaned and turned back around, Porthos punching him lightly on the shoulder. D’Artagnan looked at Athos curiously, maybe he’d guessed who Athos had just finished talking to and knew from Général Bonacieux that he shouldn’t ask about a Vampire’s Maker.

 

Athos ran his hand up d’Artagnan’s thigh and down again, enjoying the warmth. “My Maker wants to meet you.”

 

D’Artagnan looked surprised. “I’ve only met Constance’s Maker once. Really? They want to meet me?”

 

“Athos _really_ doesn’t keep pets,” Porthos reminded him. “You’re an anomaly and Methodius likes to keep a weather eye on his Children. Athos might even make sense to you after meeting his Maker. And wait ‘til you meet Ninon.”

 

Athos chuckled quietly at the thought of Ninon interrogating d’Artagnan. “Methodius has instructed me to use her as a threat if the Cardinal tries to twist the situation into a coup.”

 

D’Artagnan pressed in a little closer, clearly enjoying being so near Athos. “Thanks for telling me about your Maker. I know it’s private. I don’t know anything about Jacques’s Maker. Constance’s Maker really didn’t like me much.”

 

“She probably thought Constance should be feeding from you if she was supporting you,” Aramis pointed out. “A pet who isn’t fed from is markedly unusual.”

 

D’Artagnan didn’t look or smell shocked. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

 

He didn’t say that Athos hadn’t fed from him either yet but his frown betrayed his thoughts. Athos gripped d’Artagnan’s chin.

 

“You’ve been fed from before?”

 

D’Artagnan tried to raise his chin, Athos let him. The boy didn’t look angry or ashamed, good. “Not by Constance or Jacques. But yeah, there were a few Vampires I got to be friends with and I asked them to feed from me. I knew they wouldn’t drain me.”

 

“You didn't know that, they probably didn’t think of you as a friend,” Aramis interjected bluntly. “They looked your age, didn’t they? And since I doubt your Général let you spend time with newborns and their uncontrollable urges, those Vampires were humouring you.”

 

D’Artagnan flushed and looked furious. “They didn’t try to take anything I wasn’t willing to give.”

 

“But your Général probably ordered them to spend time with you in the first place. My Maker made sure I spent time with appropriately-aged Humans so that I learned how speak to them politely without demanding their subservience or their necks. Sometimes we need Humans on our side, politically speaking.”

 

Athos recaptured d’Artagnan’s attention, pulling him from the spiky conversation with Aramis. “Neck? Wrists?”

 

“Both.”

 

D’Artagnan smelled a little turned-on by the conversation. Athos’ grip increased a little.

 

“I’m the only one who’ll feed from you from now on. Unless Aramis and Porthos inescapably need blood.”

 

“Thank you,” Porthos nodded his head with humour but a genuine smile.

 

D’Artagnan nodded slowly, his arousal increasing. “So you _will_ feed from me?”

 

Athos brought him in for a hard crushing kiss, the sort that could look like a punishment. D’Artagnan merely seemed eager for more. Athos groped a hand high up d’Artagnan’s thigh, squeezing between his legs, gaining a groan from d’Artagnan. But they were close to the palace and while he truly wasn’t bothered by Aramis and Porthos watching, there wasn’t enough time right now for everything he wanted to do.

 

He inched away from d’Artagnan. “I’m looking forward to it.”

 

D’Artagnan’s eyes flashed and tangled his fingers briefly with Athos’ but released them just as quickly. He didn’t expect Athos to hold his hand; hopefully he didn’t expect a lot of things. Athos was not going to be his boyfriend, the term ‘partner’ didn’t fit either as it pointed towards an equality that would never be publicly acceptable. So far, d’Artagnan didn’t seem to have a problem with that.

 

They still had some details to iron out before the audience with the King though, questions that they’d be asked that they had to know the answers to now.

 

“If you become close to death, do you wish to be turned?”

 

D’Artagnan startled at the question, the pleasingly dazed look leaving his expression. “Yes, I…yes, that's always been my answer.”

 

“But only then?”

 

D’Artagnan looked at him like he was trying to work something out before answering. Athos stared effortlessly back.

 

“Only then, for now.”

 

Interesting. “Would you accept me as your Maker?”

 

D’Artagnan’s eyes widened and he didn’t look or smell horrified. Athos realised that he was leaning forward, tenser than he should have been after such a short acquaintance. Methodius had been right to sound so amused, Athos felt amused himself, his whole being was tugged towards this frail but impressive Human

 

“I would,” d’Artagnan said quietly, his tone firm.

 

Athos nodded, unaccountably satisfied by the response. “Would you accept Aramis or Porthos in an emergency if I was indisposed?”

 

D’Artagnan looked at the pair in front of him, both of them managing to glance back.

 

“We’ve all agreed to turn Agnes if there’s an emergency. She doesn’t want her boy not knowing her and her family,,” Aramis explained.

 

“You’d turn me, become a Maker?” d’Artagnan sounded wondering.

 

He sounded like he had some idea of the amount of effort and time involved in being a halfway decent Maker. Athos palmed d’Artagnan’s face, enjoying how the boy curled towards his cool touch. He was addictively responsive.

 

“You keep making Athos look like that, we’d take you on,” Porthos confirmed.

 

He was answering d’Artagnan but his gaze locked onto Athos as he spoke. Athos nodded his thanks, of course if one of them physically became d’Artagnan’s Maker the other would assist in d'Artagnan training and every other part of the process. Athos was grateful; they were the only Vampires he trusted with someone he’d claimed, just as he knew they’d trust him with someone equally important. He trusted Treville of course, but the man’s position as Directeur Général made this kind of agreement close to impossible.

 

D’Artagnan leaned towards Athos, still hungry for his touch, still with that blaze of feeling now simmering in his eyes. Athos ran a hand through d’Artagnan’s hair and enjoyed the warmth of his scalp. He’d have to find out the limits of d’Artagnan’s knowledge of Vampires, to curb any shocks and to discover just how much he'd have to teach his pet.

 

The palace appeared up ahead. Treville slowed down, Porthos copied his speed. Athos lifted d'Artagnan's hand to his mouth, biting it but just about resisting breaking the skin. D'Artagnan shuddered. Out of the corner of his eye, Athos registered Aramis and Porthos straightening their postures and slipping on masked expression. He did the same, pleased to see d'Artagnan's gaze sharpen as he noticed how they were subtly changing. An observant nature was an asset in a pet.

 

For this visit, it was one of several skills d'Artagnan would need. Athos tightened his grip minutely on d'Artagnan and then let go. The Cardinal was waiting for them, waiting for a chance to cut away at the Musketeers. Already, Athos loathed the idea of another Vampire approaching d'Artagnan. Pets had always seemed more trouble than they were worth – aside from Aramis and Porthos, he so rarely sought the company of Vampires, let alone Humans, so why would he want a demanding expectant Human fixed to his side?

 

He watched d'Artagnan exit the car, a beautiful Human with intriguing sharpness and aggression. Why, indeed.


	5. By Royal Appointment

 

 

Aramis and Porthos had packed swords in the car boot. If they'd walked into most Vampire-dominated venues carrying weapons, their actions would have been taken as a declaration of conflict and intent. But the King liked his Musketeers to be armed, partly because he liked those loyal to him to be absolutely ready for any kind of imminent attack – the paranoid Vampires were the ones who survived and there'd been attempts on the King's life several times that year already – and partly because it pleased him to be reminded of when men always carried weapons.

 

Athos missed that era at some times more than others.

 

Now, he walked into the palace with Aramis and Porthos at his side and d'Artagnan a step behind. The Musketeer on the door, a recent addition, recognised them and waved them through though he eyed d'Artagnan with undisguised interest. D'Artagnan didn't speak; Athos monitored his scent but didn't turn around to check on him. Once they were inside the lobby, swords strapped either to their backs or to their belts, a smirking Red Guard appeared to 'check them for anything that could harm the King and Queen.' The Cardinal’s games were starting even earlier than usual.

 

Aramis snorted, one hand lazily on his sword handle. “Where exactly do you think we're hiding these threats?”

 

The Red Guard briefly frisked them with gloved hands, being surprisingly professional and then tried to speed over to d'Artagnan but Athos anticipated the movement – why else would the Cardinal suddenly want them searched? - and gripped the Guard's wrist tight enough to make the bones creak. His expression was blank.

 

“No.”

 

The Guard snarled and bit out a pained noise. “His Eminence wants your property searched thoroughly.”

 

“And I suppose his pets are 'searched' just as thoroughly?” Athos' eyes gleamed dangerously.

 

He gripped the Guard's wrist even tighter and then abruptly let go. The Guard stared down as his bones started to heal and sneered at Athos who stood motionlessly, not glancing once towards d'Artagnan.

 

“Don't Musketeers share?”

 

Athos' mouth flickered into a smile, almost a slight smirk. “They do, with those they trust to return their property in a usable condition.”

 

Now he looked across at d'Artagnan, who had Aramis and Porthos close beside him, bracketing him protectively or behaving like two extremely interested Vampires. D'Artagnan was looking up at Porthos with what could only be described as a flirtatious expression, Porthos was smirking back.

 

Athos cleared his throat and d'Artagnan's gaze snapped from Porthos to Athos. A moment later, he was by Athos' side. Athos looked at him for a moment as though inspecting him for damage and then turned back to the Red Guard who was stood up straight now, his arm fully healed and his expression extremely sour. It was more than he deserved.

 

“I shall inform the Cardinal,” Athos told him, his words soft with warning.

 

“Possibly the King should know too,” Aramis added. “You know much he appreciates beautiful things. He'd have hated to have seen such a fine pet damaged.”

 

The Red Guard gritted his teeth and motioned for them to walk through the double-doors ahead. “The King commands you to use a donor before you enter his presence.”

 

Athos could hear and sense that just past the doors waited several men and women. Aramis arched an eyebrow. “We drank from donors after we rose. Athos?”

 

Athos nodded. The bagged blood had done its job but he was the only one who would be able to truly appreciate any fresh blood at that moment and one of them should, if they all refused the donors the King would be offended. Of course, this could also be another information-gathering exercise by the Cardinal. Sure enough, the Red Guards were watching him and d'Artagnan avidly.

 

Athos jerked his head towards the doors and d'Artagnan silently followed him into the room, Red Guards right behind him. The donors were well-dressed and healthy-looking, the King didn't like to drink from the more desperate-smelling donors who often stank of drugs and alcohol, the type found in so many nightclubs and bars. It was very kind of the King to offer such good donors. Athos motioned a dark-haired man forward and without much ceremony, numbed the man's neck by licking it and easily slid his fangs in. Athos had made sure that he fed in full view of d'Artagnan, it would be good to experience his reaction to a feeding and the Guards wouldn't be able to report that Athos was shielding his pet.

 

The man didn't struggle or complain, he didn't appear to have been glamoured either as he moaned a little at the sensation. After taking his fill, Athos pulled away and healed the fang marks left on the man's neck. Many donors wore their bite marks as badges of honour but the King did not appreciate such a look. Athos cupped the man's jaw tightly and then turned his head as though inspecting him, making a thoughtful noise. He had been a good donor.

 

Athos turned back to d'Artagnan who smelled interested and aroused, he didn’t look upset or sickened by the display at all. One of the Red Guards was looking at him lasciviously but d'Artagnan met his gaze and then looked away derisively, definitively not interested. The Guard scowled.

 

“You should show more respect.”

 

D'Artagnan snorted. “And you should remember that I belong to a Musketeer. Why would I be interested in a Red Guard?”

 

The Guard took a step towards him but Athos neatly blocked the Guard’s progress. “You are replaceable, remember that too.”

 

The Red Guard glared at him while Athos turned and left the room, d'Artagnan close behind him. Aramis and Porthos were lounging in the lobby, smirking a little as though they'd been eavesdropping again. They fell into step beside Athos.

 

“Eventful meal?” asked Porthos.

 

“His Majesty provided a very fine menu. Sadly the Red Guards still refuse to understand the concept of ownership.”

 

Aramis tutted. “Discipline is the word of the day it seems.”

 

Athos glanced at d'Artagnan, the boy didn't smell scared, he was more excited and nervous than anything else and he was able to easily meet Athos' gaze. Athos led the way into the hall that the King liked the greet people in. Athos could only flick a quick look d'Artagnan's way and wish again that there'd been more time to talk to the boy, to discover how well Général Bonacieux had trained him – everything would be noticed here, had d'Artagnan seen Général Bonacieux with important visitors? She had to have trained him just in case.

 

Inside the hall, Directeur Général Treville was stood before the King, talking quietly to him. The Cardinal stood next to the King, as always clothed in dark robes, his piercing gaze fixed on Athos' group and more specifically on d'Artagnan. D'Artagnan kept his gaze lowered, though he no doubt wanted to look at the Vampire monarch of France. He was doing well at controlling himself.

 

Athos, Aramis and Porthos all bowed to their King and Queen. D'Artagnan did the same, slightly more awkwardly. Good, if he executed a bow perfectly, some might wonder if he'd been overtly primed for this royal audience. The Cardinal was still watching the boy intently.

 

Athos focused on the King. “Your Majesty, thank you for the invitation.”

 

The King smiled, dismissing Athos' words with a flick of his hand. “Ah, it's always good to be in the company of my Musketeers. And when I heard you'd decided on a pet and one that had actually tried to end you...”

 

He looked at d'Artagnan with undisguised interest, and at Athos' glance, d'Artagnan stepped forward. He darted a look up towards the King and Queen, but didn't say anything. His heartbeat was fast, unsurprising since he was meeting such a powerful collection of Vampires.

 

“Yes, I can see why you decided on him,” the King pronounced. “Did he really try to end you?”

 

Athos' expression became suitably grim. “Misinformation, Your Highness. The religious group who have been slaughtering Humans used my name when they killed d’Artagnan’s father. I'm told that Alexandre d'Artagnan was well-liked by many Vampires in Gascony, he was Général Bonacieux's day man. Perhaps he tried to prevent the group from killing.”

 

“A brave man indeed if that's true,” the King mused. “Your pet is lucky you were merciful enough not to snap his neck, Athos.”

 

“I was curious as to who had wanted to end me,” Athos replied simply.

 

“Of course. Well, this murderous group needs to be routed. Treville, I can count on you to see to it?”

 

Treville nodded his head. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

 

“The Red Guards can see that group stopped, Your Majesty,” the Cardinal spoke up at last. “They caught several anti-Vampire activists recently.”

 

“Who have no connection whatsoever to this gang,” pointed out Treville.

 

The King frowned. “Both Musketeers and Red Guards can see this grievous problem solved.”

 

His words were a warning as well as a command and both Treville and the Cardinal nodded, neither looking particularly happy. The King turned his attention back to d'Artagnan.

 

“He's very quiet. How do you discipline him?”

 

“Confinement has worked well so far. He's responded appropriately.”

 

The Queen stirred then and motioned for d'Artagnan to walk closer. D'Artagnan looked at Athos first and at his nod, walked towards the Queen. She was dressed in cream and gold, all beautifully tailored; it complemented her husband's clothing choice as well. She looked as young and doll-like as ever, but Athos had seen her tear out people's throats. Anyone who took her on face-value deserved their fate. The monarchs’ marriage had been political of course, to keep the Spanish Vampire monarch from making too many coup plans, but the King and Queen seemed to actually enjoy each other's company. They were lucky.

 

Aramis also enjoyed their company, a fact which angered the Cardinal as he apparently believed such a duty gave Aramis some kind of leverage or power over the couple. Aramis had always laughed at such an idea and had pointed out that he was blessed, getting to fuck the Queen, and that she very vocally enjoyed it while the King enjoyed watching.

 

The Queen was looking at d'Artagnan with something like a smile. She had several pets who were all clustered close to her, all beautiful, all well-dressed. D'Artagnan's beauty wouldn't look out of place among them. Athos kept himself relaxed; he wouldn't give the Cardinal the satisfaction of seeing him worried.

 

D'Artagnan smelled nervous as the Queen talked to him. “Your new status is for punishment, for what you did.”

 

D'Artagnan nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

 

“I'm sure you'll come along nicely under Athos' tutelage.”

 

D'Artagnan smiled a little; maybe he didn't recognise the command in her simple words. “I'm sure too, Your Majesty. I want to do Général Bonacieux proud.”

 

The Queen looked pleased at that. “Good, I hope you do as well. I’d like to hear about his progress, Athos.”

 

He bowed slightly. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

 

Royal interest in his pet was not ideal as it would mean that the Cardinal would be even more interested, but Athos was glad again that he'd chosen to return to Paris. The current English Vampire monarch would have probably demanded that d'Artagnan be handed over to her immediately. Perhaps Queen Anne would want to taste him, if so Athos would not protest, though he would try to be present or ask Aramis to be there. While many Vampires were happy to share their meals and their pets, Athos was not that kind of Vampire. He might consent to share with Aramis and Porthos, if only to prevent the Cardinal from seeing d’Artagnan as the kind of game piece that should be quickly removed.

 

Conversation turned to other matters and d’Artagnan fidgeted. Athos casually reached across and slapped the boy’s hands sharply. The King nodded sagely.

 

“The young ones are so beautiful but discipline is such a problem. How old is he?”

 

“Nineteen,” Treville supplied, having read Général Bonacieux’s information on her pet no doubt.

 

“Hmm, I expect you won’t indulge him too much, Athos.”

 

“I’m not known for my indulgent nature, Your Highness.”

 

“Indeed, this could prove to be very entertaining. I think you’ve made a good choice, taking him on, Athos. He might turn out to be an acceptable day man and an interesting little pet. How pleasurable your nights will be, Athos.”

 

“My Maker does like me to challenge myself, Your Highness.”

 

“Ah, Methodius, will he be visiting us soon?”

 

Athos smiled slightly, taking note of the vaguely ill expression that the Cardinal was now wearing. “Within the month, Your Majesty. He also thinks this will be entertaining.”


	6. Room For One More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains talk of King Louis/Queen Anne/Aramis and a scene of mild Aramis/Porthos/Athos :)

 

 

 During the car ride home, d’Artagnan was quiet, almost pensive. Athos observed him unabashedly; he’d have to order in some better clothing for the boy. He couldn’t go before the King in jeans again, once was passably amusing, twice would be disrespectful. Athos enjoyed the thought of d’Artagnan wearing clothes he’d picked out for him; he enjoyed the thought a lot.

 

“Are they all like that?” d’Artagnan asked suddenly, turning to Athos. “The Vampire monarchs?”

 

Aramis laughed but his eyes held a firm warning. “Don’t let the Cardinal hear that tone from you.”

 

“King Louis gained the throne after his Maker was ended in a coup that his Maker’s wife no doubt orchestrated,” Athos began the story. “She wanted to rule France so that she’d have a powerbase from which to begin acquiring territory.”

 

“I thought she’d been ended.”

 

“She’s very good at her own PR,” Porthos replied with a shake of his head. “Twice she’s gotten back into France, despite the fact she’s been banished by the King. Her money and reputation can clear borders.”

 

D’Artagnan’s expression twisted. “So she might come back?”

 

“Undoubtedly.” Athos cupped a hand to d’Artagnan’s neck, enjoying the tremble of his pulse. “As for the King’s chosen manner of living, unless you want a very torturous death, you won’t question it. He remembers the Seventeenth Century fondly and while he has adapted to the changing Human world, the Vampire world moves ever so slowly.”

 

“You still have Kings and Queens,” d’Artagnan said slowly, as though he was mentally putting things together.

 

Athos dug a thumb into the muscle beneath d’Artagnan’s skin. He appreciated the intelligence that d’Artagnan was displaying, it only increased his interest in the boy. D’Artagnan smiled and ducked his head a little when he noticed Athos’ appreciative gaze. Athos merely dragged him closer for a biting kiss, but he didn’t draw blood, not yet.

 

When they parted, d’Artagnan twitched like he’d been thinking of curling up against Athos but had thought better of it. He smelled pleased and turned-on; Aramis whistled appreciatively.

 

“The entertainment is improving around here. I think the King was right.”

 

“But the King thinks _you’re_ entertaining,” Porthos laughed.

 

“Endlessly.”

 

D’Artagnan’s eyes were narrowed as though he was trying to work something out and really wanted to ask about it. Athos regarded him with amusement.

 

“The answer to your question is yes.”

 

D’Artagnan’s eyebrows shot up but he didn’t look shocked. He looked like he was trying to understand the mechanics of the situation. Athos wondered suddenly how often d’Artagnan had slept during the day, keeping Vampire hours to spend time with and learn from Général Bonacieux. No wonder her husband had been jealous. It made d’Artagnan quite unique though, a Human boy, a young man in Human years, who had grown up around a Human father and a Vampire Général, learning of both species.

 

“Aramis is very obliging,” Porthos offered with an amused smirk more than touched by smugness.

 

Aramis stroked fingers across his moustache and smiled. “The Queen has never complained and neither has the King.”

 

D’Artagnan shook his head, smiling nevertheless. “Well, I’m impressed.”

 

“As well you should be.”

 

The atmosphere was companionable as they conversed, getting closer to Athos’ family home. Athos kept a hand on d’Artagnan at all times and watched as the boy slowly slipped into sleep. Even if he’d slept at some point during the day, he was clearly exhausted now. Porthos glanced back at them with a smile.

 

“I’m surprised that didn’t happen sooner.”

 

Athos looked at d’Artagnan, at how trustingly he slept in a vehicle containing three Vampires. He touched the softness of the boy’s cheek and absorbed the sight of him for a little while longer before calling Général Bonacieux.

 

“D’Artagnan survived an encounter with the King and the Queen. The Cardinal was also present.”

 

Général Bonacieux sighed. “He didn’t say anything that got the Cardinal’s attention, did he?”

 

“No, he appeared loyal and beautiful and unshocked by Vampire behaviour.”

 

“So he could have drawn admirers?”

 

That made Athos pause. “If the King and Queen ask, I won’t refuse them.”

 

Because refusing would mean leaving Paris to escape the monarchs’ wrath and breaking away from the life he’d made in Paris would mean an impossible existence afterwards. How would he survive if it became public knowledge that he’d refused a King’s request and had subsequently left for another country? A century or two ago, he would have welcomed that kind of dead-end. Now though, he enjoyed Paris, he preferred to keep an eye on the Cardinal in person and he actually liked serving these monarchs. Many Vampires only obeyed their monarchs in order to survive and perhaps gain a greater position of power themselves, after so many years existing power games were all there was left to amuse and stimulate many. But Athos had Aramis and Porthos and he still felt pride in serving monarchs that he believed in. King Louis and Queen Anne were more even-handed than most.

 

“I understand,” Général Bonacieux replied, not sounding entirely angry. “He…they liked him?”

 

It was almost a motherly tone. She would be a good Maker one day.

 

“Both the King and Queen were entertained by him and his beauty was commented upon,” Athos reported. “He was not repulsed by their behaviour.”

 

“And if anyone other than them demands his company?”

 

Athos’ grip on the phone was hard enough to make the plastic creak. “They won’t get it.”

 

“Good.”

 

Général Bonacieux sounded satisfied. Perhaps it wasn’t just her husband who was the jealous type; perhaps she wanted the best for d’Artagnan and didn’t entirely enjoy the idea of him being anybody else’s. Athos didn’t mention it; she had seen the boy grow up, a fact which clearly still affected her. But she had agreed to allow d’Artagnan to be Athos’ now and they all knew that it wasn’t just for punishment or protection.

 

He spoke to her about the Cardinal and discovered that she had a story of her own to share – a Red Guard had come calling, wanting to know why she’d allowed her pet to be taken in by a Musketeer. She’d been rightly furious at her credentials as both as a pet owner and a Général being so obnoxiously questioned and had beaten the man soundly when he’d asked one question too many. Général Bonacieux might have been unable to give d’Artagnan the discipline he needed to survive around Vampires but she clearly had no qualms about defending her own position and status.

 

Athos ended the call and watched as the car’s headlights cut through the darkness ahead. He could see just fine in the dark without them. He thought about Methodius and about Ninon, he thought about Milady, still out there in Paris when she’d claimed that she do business in other countries from now on. He thought about her furious blazing gaze and how the last time they’d met, she’d alternated between verbally cutting into him and trying to seduce him into compliance. He had loved her once, but she hadn’t possessed a shred of loyalty then and she still didn’t now. She still told him that his loyalties were weaknesses, that one day they’d end him. It was amazing that she hadn’t been ended yet, but her capacity for survival had always been extraordinary.

 

Sometimes Athos looked forward to the day she would burn. Sometimes he dreaded it.

 

She'd disappeared, escaping her execution before Methodius had arrived to find out why his Child was in so much pain. Methodius had told him that if he ever saw Milady again, the best thing he could do was end her. But Athos hadn't, he’d avoided her ever since. The way she snaked in and out of his thoughts was bad enough; he didn't want to see her in person again as well.

 

He hadn't seen her for decades until he'd smelled her jasmine perfume on a Human who'd been trying to end him. She did like to keep him on his toes.

 

He should end her, before she ended Aramis, Porthos, or Treville, just to see the look on his face. He was almost sure that the years had driven her mad, the years and her near death. She was the only Vampire he knew who'd killed her own Maker.

 

Porthos parked in front of the house. Athos got out and easily pulled d'Artagnan out after him, scooping d’Artagnan up like a sack of grain. Those were the days. Athos couldn't remember the feel of sun on his face anymore. He didn't even bother to try, what would be the point?

 

Aramis leered at him shamelessly. “Honestly, I think you do these things just to fulfil my fantasies.”

 

Porthos rolled his eyes and Aramis turned to him. “There's no need for that, you feature heavily too.”

 

“I'll need proof.”

 

It was Athos' turn to roll his eyes as he turned towards the house. Aramis called after him.

 

“This is your fault, you know. Getting us hard while we were stuck in a car.”

 

“Yeah, what would your Maker say?”

 

“He'd say it'd be politer to invite me to join you instead of complaining.”

 

Aramis immediately sped over to his side and purred in his ear. “You've still got an open invitation.”

 

Athos smiled a little; very aware of the warm weight he was carrying and the contrastingly cool beauty of his dear friend. He leaned in to kiss Aramis, enjoying the welcoming and familiar taste and shape of Aramis’ lips.

 

“Always an honour. Make yourselves comfortable.”

 

Porthos had sped to his other side, his arm wrapped briefly around Athos' waist, his head nodding towards d'Artagnan. “Too much for his young eyes?”

 

“He wasn't outraged by Aramis' royal scandal. We'll see.”

 

Porthos grinned, showing all his teeth. “Now there’s a thought.”

 

They didn't join him as he walked into the house and up the stairs to the first floor. Where had d'Artagnan slept? Athos tasted the air and then headed into the second room on the right. D'Artagnan had chosen a decent-sized room which featured a king-sized bed and simple solid furniture. There were light-tight blinds on every window in the house, just in case.

 

Athos laid d'Artagnan down on the bed and smoothed a hand through the young Human's hair. Even in sleep, d'Artagnan wasn't afraid to press into the Vampire's touch. Athos watched him, wondering why his hunger, usually for justice, for his two closest friends' company, had attached itself to d'Artagnan. Methodius had married a couple of times and sometimes kept pets. He'd never taught Athos that to become a pet owner was a sign of weakness. In fact, he'd told Athos that it made a Vampire more likely to survive as the best pet owners learned as much as the pet did - a Vampire could gain valuable knowledge from a Human and knowledge was always power. It was how the Cardinal maintained his grip on France after all.

 

Athos wanted to be a good pet owner, to make his Maker proud, to make Milady grind her teeth, to satisfy his own curiosity, and to seek more of the pleasure he got from spending time with d'Artagnan, a pleasure he hadn't felt since first meeting Ninon. He had never regretted introducing her to Methodius.

 

Athos stroked a hand through d'Artagnan's hair again and then got to his feet to leave the room. He would leave a note for Agnes telling her to let d'Artagnan sleep through until midday, he wanted d'Artagnan to spend at least half the night with him from now on, and yes, d'Artagnan probably wouldn't be Athos' day man for particularly long, long enough for it to feel like a punishment, the strain of working half a day and then not getting a full night with Athos. From the way d'Artagnan smelled around him, that would be a punishment. And yes, perhaps it would affect Athos as well.

 

But for now, he had friends waiting for him and by the sound of it, they'd started without him.


	7. Bad Form

 

 

Athos rested away from the house again and when he rose, the night decent and ink-black, he didn’t anticipate many problems. Then he got to the house and read Agnes’ latest note – she’d let d’Artagnan sleep, he’d been a big help with the laundry and cleaning, they’d gone out to shop for smarter clothing for him and had been followed by a couple of Human Red Guards but she and d’Artagnan had lost them on the way home. Should she look into getting d’Artagnan registered for a gun? Or was he already registered? That was an idea to consider. Perhaps d’Artagnan could be trained physically as well.

 

The trouble started at the end of Agnes’ letter. Something had bowed d’Artagnan’s mood at some point during the afternoon. Whatever it was, he hadn’t talked about it but it’d been noticeable. Athos frowned and spread his awareness out, d’Artagnan was sleeping upstairs. At least he was peaceful there. Athos occupied himself by feeding from the donors that Agnes had scheduled for him and then glamoured them to forget his location. He contacted the local packmaster to mention that Red Guards could be sniffing around and that he and his wolves should enjoy dealing with them.

 

Athos read through his emails and answered several military enquiries and a couple of biting accusations from the local police nationale. He was used to that and gladly dealt with them - Treville couldn’t be expected to deal with complaints all the time. He was Directeur Général for the whole of France’s Vampire population and while Paris was his priority, he had to think about the whole country and he couldn’t do it alone. The Cardinal thought that the Red Guards should be permitted to help ease that weight more but Treville relied staunchly on the Générals under his command across France while in Paris itself, he relied on Athos, his second-in-command. Athos was honoured to be considered trustworthy and loyal enough for the position. He didn’t attempt the work alone either, he had Aramis and Porthos.

 

Porthos and Aramis wandered into the lounge, having fed on donors themselves and then sent them on their way. Aramis was shirtless and reading something keenly on his iPad. Out of the three of them, he was the most at ease with technology’s rapid growth.

 

“None of Milady’s aliases have left the city recently,” he announced with weary anger.

 

Porthos groaned and dropped down onto a sofa. There was blood on his cuff that he was rubbing at with a frown. Perhaps a donor hadn’t behaved themselves. Porthos was usually immaculately dressed, he knew how best to clothe his powerful frame. He’d learned how to, wanting to do all he possibly could to ensure that he became one of the King’s Musketeers, especially once he knew that Aramis wanted to become one and that Athos held such a position already. He’d more than qualified, his fighting prowess had only increased the older he’d gotten.

 

“So what’s she planning?” Porthos asked. “A coup? Another attempt on your life?”

 

He nodded at Athos and Athos shrugged minutely. “Both are a possibility. Clearly there’s some task she feels that she has to complete before leaving.”

 

As a rule, Milady stayed away from Paris, conducting the Cardinal’s business elsewhere and planning how next to skewer Athos. Athos himself often spent time preparing for whatever Milady’s next move was. However it seemed that he couldn’t ever be as ready as he wanted to be, d’Artagnan’s attack had been a surprise.

 

D’Artagnan. Athos’ brow twitched in a frown and Porthos noticed. “Something else wrong?”

 

Athos handed over Agnes’ note. Porthos and Aramis read it simultaneously, Aramis reaching the end first.

 

“It could be anything or nothing. He grew up in Gascony, Paris must be quite a shock and the King and Queen are interested in him. And a very handsome Vampire with a dementedly dangerous ex-wife has taken possession of him. He’s only Human.”

 

Porthos cocked an eyebrow. “Mind you, it doesn’t sound like he’s scared exactly. He has lived with Vampires before but not like this.”

 

That was true. Athos trusted Agnes’ opinion on the matter and she would have mentioned if d’Artagnan was particularly scared or angry. She might like d’Artagnan but her first loyalty was to Athos. Truthfully, she was most viscerally loyal to Aramis since he was the one who’d helped her deal with the Shifters who’d wanted to raise her baby, the baby that they were related to. But since Aramis deferred to Athos, so did Agnes. Athos, Aramis, and Porthos had all claimed her but she was formally employed by Athos since it was his property. Aramis and Porthos also owned property in Paris, but those were kept secret. Every Vampire needed a safehouse or two.

 

Aramis left to meet up with some fellow Musketeers in town, Porthos went with him; he had a card game scheduled with some Weres. He was the most Were-friendly out of the three of them. Aramis and Athos could deal with Weres professionally but didn’t seek out their company, unlike Porthos. He’d fought Weres on a couple of occasions though, Weres who hadn’t been as Vampire-tolerant as they’d initially claimed to be. Porthos had emerged victorious and had finished his card game as well. His presence at such games usually strengthened bonds with local packs.

 

“If he gets too lively, tell us,” Porthos warned as he left the room.

 

Athos nodded wordlessly. Maybe d’Artagnan’s mood had been a reflection of how he was adjusting to his new life or maybe he’d only just realised how long Athos intended on keeping him. They’d talked about the possibility of d’Aragnan being turned by one of the three, but it was one thing to talk about that as a far-future emergency-only concept and another to actually face the truth of how long a Vampire’s possessive desire could last. Perhaps everything was becoming more real to him now.

 

Athos buried himself in more emails; Treville had sent him a full electronic file on Général Bonacieux. That would make very interesting and informative reading. Athos sent a quick message to Général Bonacieux, asking how honestly comfortable d’Artagnan was with using firearms. He’d ask d’Artagnan too of course but he liked to get the whole picture and Général Bonacieux was unlikely to sugar-coat anything. As the pet of one of the King's Musketeers, it would be advisable for all their sakes if he was often armed and capable of defending both himself and others.

 

He was drinking a warm mug of blood and finishing an email to Ninon when d’Artagnan began moving upstairs. Athos paused and then continued with his work. Eventually, d’Artagnan appeared, dressed in smarter jeans and a button-down shirt that fitted him very nicely. Athos looked at him appreciatively; d’Artagnan coloured in response and cleared his throat. The blush suited him. Athos wondered what it was in his own gaze that had caused that reaction.

 

“Agnes and I shopped. Is this okay?”

 

Athos nodded, holding out a hand and after a minor hesitation, d’Artagnan stepped forward to accept it. He didn’t flinch at Athos’ cold touch though.

 

“When we next visit the King, no jeans.”

 

D’Artagnan nodded and took a seat on the sofa next to Athos but he didn’t let any of his body touch Athos. Something needled under Athos’ skin. D’Artagnan’s behaviour was a puzzle, one that Athos was determined to solve. He sent the email to Ninon, put the half-empty mug of blood down and turned fully towards his pet. D’Artagnan shifted but didn’t move back. His mouth pulled downwards unhappily, he’d never looked like that before when talking to Athos.

 

“You don’t want to tell me what’s wrong,” Athos surmised aloud.

 

D’Artagnan’s eyes widened. Athos held up a hand and d’Artagnan stayed silent. Athos came to a decision and sent a quick text message to both Aramis and Porthos.

 

“That is unacceptable. So you’re going to learn about my property.”

 

He stood up and walked expectantly out of the door. D’Artagnan followed him, obviously bewildered and worried.

 

“You’re not going to punish me?”

 

"If you don't tell me what's bothering you by the end of the day, then I'll punish you." Athos indicated for d'Artagnan to put on the pair of trainers that he'd obviously left by the front door when he'd come in from shopping earlier. "Did Général Bonacieux _ever_ punish you?"

 

D'Artagnan looked both stubborn and slightly sheepish as they'd stepped outside into the cool night. "When I was younger, my father always disciplined me, warning me that his punishments were light compared to what the Général would do if she ever had to punish me."

 

His father had certainly been telling the truth; at least he'd never hidden from his son what Vampires were like. Still, it felt as though someone hadn't been discipling the boy properly. Athos led the way across soft grassy field as d'Artagnan continued his story.

 

“Then as my dad's job as Constance's day man took up more of his time, I spent more time with Vampires. Constance made sure that I spent time with her and Jacques and her subordinates so that I could experience what Vampires were like.”

 

“I doubt you saw their true natures. The Général's subordinates likely knew they weren't to harm you in any way, no matter what you did.”

 

D'Artagnan was quiet for a moment, then he nodded. He smelled pensive again. “I didn't see it that way, I got to meet monsters up close and personal and none of my friends knew the secret that I did. I liked that.”

 

D'Artagnan looked embarrassed now, Athos could easily imagine him as a much younger boy, stubborn and proud, probably furious when his father's employer wouldn't flash her fangs at someone who'd upset him. Général Bonacieux evidently had a great deal of patience; it was unlikely her husband shared such a temperament.

 

“Has your view changed now?” asked Athos, coming to a stop at a drystone wall.

 

D'Artagnan frowned. “Of course.”

 

“What were Général Bonacieux's punishments like?”

 

D'Artagnan shifted on his feet slightly. “She confined me to her property, sometimes to my room. And once she showed me a Vampire who'd been silvered for disobeying its Maker. She told me that I might suffer just as much as punishment one day.”

 

Athos watched him, d'Artagnan's expression deepening with shadows. Was this what had upset him? The thought of such punishments? Clearly Général Bonacieux's decision to show d'Artagnan such consequences of disobedience had made an impression. It had been a very wise idea. So why did d'Artagnan still think that he could hide things from his Master?

 

Athos pressed a hand to d'Artagnan's face and turned his head towards him. “But you still disobeyed her.”

 

D'Artagnan tensed but nodded slightly. “I knew she wouldn't ever be that hard on me. She liked my father; I don't think she wanted to upset him after my mother's death.”

 

“Did Général Bonacieux ever punish your father?”

 

D'Artagnan's eyes flashed. “No!”

 

“That you know of.”

 

D'Artagnan fought against Athos' grip on him, but Athos held him fast. “She wouldn't have hurt him, she liked him.”

 

“I doubt he was her only household staff and I doubt she never punished them.”

 

D'Artagnan struggled for a little longer and then stopped abruptly, fury rich in the air and digging deep lines into his expression. Athos continued speaking in a calm even tone, as though d'Artagnan hadn't moved at all.

 

“He might have become her friend, but he was Hers primarily and if he didn't fulfil his role to the degree that she required, she would have punished him, publicly sometimes. She is the Général of Gascony and cannot be seen to allow a Human to falter in her service without suitable punishment.”

 

D'Artagnan looked anguished, Athos didn't soften his grip. D'Artagnan had probably gone through life thinking that he had a superior perspective of Vampires and that his place among them was superior in comparison to other Humans. Who would cross the Général of Gascony if her Human pet misbehaved? Pets were often spoilt and behaved accordingly, but their owners also usually punished them. Being confined to his room was an appropriate punishment for a Human teenager, but if he'd been mouthing off to Vampires, he'd needed harsher treatment. Athos was going to have a long conversation with Général Bonacieux. From all reports, she was a loyal strong Général and someone that Directeur Général Treville approved of, she shouldn't be giving the Cardinal enough rope to hang her with.

 

“I never saw any marks,” d'Artagnan said dully, misery thick in his scent.

 

Athos released him but stayed close. “I doubt she would have physically punished him. Did he accept Vampire blood for healing?”

 

“Sometimes, he said he didn't...” d'Artagnan paused, his words highlighted by the salt of tears. “He said he didn't want me to lose both parents.”

 

Athos nodded, not giving d'Artagnan any privacy as he composed himself. Perhaps this was the root of d'Artagnan's mood. Grief didn't disappear overnight, no matter how much the boy might have wished it.

 

“Why do you think he wasn't punished physically?” asked d'Artagnan abruptly.

 

“Général Bonacieux valued him; her affection for him has always been unhidden when she talks about him. If your father sometimes took Vampire blood, it was probably for particularly bad injuries gained in the Général's service. She didn't want to lose him or drive him away. She would have punished him by docking his pay, perhaps keeping him from you for several days, sending him on trips to places he didn't enjoy. Just because they weren't physical doesn't mean they weren't painful for him.”

 

D'Artagnan wiped his face and looked considering. “Sometimes I didn't see him for a few days, Constance always said that he was on business for her.”

 

“Her husband probably thought you and your father should have been punished more harshly.”

 

D'Artagnan grimaced. “He's less of a fan of Humans than Constance. I know something happened before I knew them and he thought that if we were Constance's pets, we should be punished properly and that she and he should be feeding from us.”

 

It was probably a good thing for the Général's marriage and for her husband's continued existence that d'Artagnan wasn't living there anymore. Athos glanced across his land, he hadn't allowed a Human to sleep in any of his houses for several centuries and even then, they'd been people his Maker had trusted. He'd never rested in the same house as a Human.

 

“She trusts you a great deal.”

 

D'Artagnan nodded, his expression revealing that he knew all about the secrecy of resting places and properties bought under different names. “Sometimes I think it's only because she liked my dad so much, like maybe I'm a debt she's still repaying.”

 

That was more than possible. “Your father did die while working for her.”

 

D'Artagnan made a soft noise and Athos let the silence fall for a little while. D'Artagnan's emotions were so raw, he’d clearly been suppressing them since his attempt to end Athos had been foiled. He hadn't lied to Athos since then, but he had kept things from him. That couldn't happen, coups had happened because of pets' deceit.

 

Athos broke the silence. “If you continue to keep things from me, I will punish you and it will be physical.”

 

D'Artagnan's eyes were wide. “I haven't kept anything-.”

 

Athos wrapped a strong hand around d'Artagnan's throat, holding him just tight enough to make breathing difficult. “You've been angry and upset today and you haven't revealed why. I think you've felt like this in some way since trying to kill me.”

 

He loosened his grip and d'Artagnan rubbed at his throat, grimacing. “Agnes told you?”

 

Athos looked at him. “She's Mine, her first loyalty is to me.”

 

The silence engulfed them. Athos wondered if d'Artagnan had decided that this was all too much. The idea hurt. If it was true, Athos would allow d'Artagnan to serve out his punishment and then return to Gascony. He hoped strongly that d'Artagnan had other ideas. Athos wouldn't go easy on him though, he had been taught better than that.

 

“Porthos told me that, for security, he and Aramis don't have male lovers.” d'Artagnan chewed his lip for a second. “When Agnes and I were stripping beds down for laundry, she said something about how she can always tell when you've spent the night with them.”

 

Athos' eyebrows rose, his expression sliding into amused. D'Artagnan was jealous? D'Artagnan scowled at the look on Athos' face.

 

“I haven't been lying to you, but Porthos lied to me.”

 

Athos smoothed a hand down d'Artagnan's arm, watching as his pet twitched a little at the contact as though he didn't want to enjoy it but did anyway.

 

“Porthos and Aramis used to take male lovers, until one night ended extremely badly.”

 

“How badly?”

 

In a flash, Athos vividly remembered Aramis covered in blood, the furious call from Marsac's Maker, how it had taken Aramis several years to recover, Porthos by his side and Athos when he was needed.

 

“Aramis was forced to end one of his closest friends.”

 

D'Artagnan's face dropped and Athos continued. “Porthos and Aramis think that I would be less tense if I had more sex and me joining them for a fuck makes them happy.”

 

“But you enjoy it too.”

 

Athos smiled. Those were better memories. “I do.”

 

D'Artagnan looked confused. “So why aren't you with them all the time?”

 

Athos was filled with dry amusement. He forgot sometimes the narrowness of a Human's perspective. He wondered suddenly about Général Bonacieux's relationship with her husband. It might explain a lot about d'Artagnan's discomfort.

 

“They are my brothers in all things, but I have no desire to share their bed every night or even every week. And they don't always want me there either; they have other interests to sate them.”

 

D'Artagnan looked so puzzled that Athos chuckled; he waved away d'Artagnan's offended expression. “Your Général and her husband, they never take lovers?”

 

“No, Constance was clear about that.”

 

“She also told you how rare such monogamy is among Vampires?”

 

D'Artagnan sort of shrugged, his expression turned away from Athos. Athos reached out and tucked a strand of d'Artagnan's hair behind his ear. There was an innocence buried under d'Artagnan's lifelong experience of Vampires, it was quite attractive. No doubt Général Bonacieux had found it compelling too and had sought to protect it. An understandable decision, but not the best one, not for d’Artagnan in the long run.

 

Athos tugged lightly on d’Artagnan’s hair to recapture his attention. “We live so long, our expectations of ‘relationships’ are different. Porthos and Aramis are devoted to one another but they also do not deny themselves what they want. Why should they?”

 

“They’re devoted to you too.”

 

Athos smiled, thinking about the two Vampires he’d come to love fiercely. It was not a bond easily explained, particularly to a Human.

 

“We are devoted to each other, but that means many different things.”

 

“You’re not upset? Or jealous?”

 

Athos laughed a little. “I’m possessive of what’s mine, like every Vampire should be. So little lasts in this world, we hold tightly to the things that remain with us. I am theirs and they are mine, but our hold on each other is not defined by how often we fuck.”

 

He palmed d’Artagnan’s cheek, willing the boy to look him in the eye, to truly hear this. “I will not fuck any Human but you for as long as you’re Mine.”

 

D’Artagnan looked taken aback and then his fire dulled again. “No Human, so…”

 

“You will be told many times how much I enjoy solitude. Aramis and Porthos refuse to listen to me though and I share their bed whenever I want to,” he paused before delivering news that he was sure would get a reaction. “They hope that you will join us at least once.”

 

D’Artagnan choked on thin air and Athos didn’t bother to hide his smile. It was a wonderful thought, d’Artagnan being undone by Aramis and Porthos. What a sight that would be. D’Artagnan blushed but he smelled magnificently aroused. Athos pulled him close and nuzzled at his neck, his fangs running down as he heard the pulse of blood.

 

“It really is only them?”

 

Athos pulled back a little to stare at him. “Do I strike you as the sort of person that others seek out for company?”

 

D’Artagnan laughed and didn’t look sorry about it. Good. Athos bit almost playfully at his neck, careful not to break the skin. He enjoyed the gasp he heard so loudly. There was still more to say though.

 

“I’m assuming the only Vampire attachment you’ve properly witnessed was the one between your Général and her husband.”

 

“I saw other Vampires with their pets.”

 

D’Artagnan paused then but Athos squeezed him warningly. “What did you see?”

 

D’Artagnan’s words were like a sigh but he didn’t stop talking now. He obeyed.


	8. Forwards

 

 

“Most of the time, the pets were happy and the Vampires seemed to be too. Sometimes a Vampire had more than one pet but they all seemed…sometimes resigned, but a lot of the time actually okay. I saw pets who weren’t happy at all though and Constance said she couldn’t do anything about that because nobody became a pet unwillingly.”

 

 

Athos nodded. A thought struck him. “You weren’t unwilling.”

 

 

D’Artagnan shifted in his arms but stayed pleasingly close. “I deserve this for causing so much trouble for Constance, she told me that she could have been disciplined by her Maker because I ran off and tried to end you. You were…considerate and when I realised that you didn’t have any other pets and then you talked about turning me, I thought…Anyway I know, I’m stupid to forget how different things are in Paris.”

 

 

“Not just in Paris. Your Général didn’t equip you for dealing with Vampires who don’t view you as untouchable.”

 

 

D’Artagnan looked like he was going to argue but Athos raised an eyebrow and the Human stayed quiet. Athos stroked d’Artagnan’s neck. He felt as though he was getting to the root of the problem, good. Issues left unresolved could grow into urgent problems and not just for Athos.

 

 

“You’ve only ever trusted one perspective on a Vampire’s life – Général Bonacieux’s. She has only her husband and she is content. You’ve seen pets both happy and resentful. You know Vampires can be cruel and dismissive particularly towards Humans, you know that many enjoy multiple partners and little commitment. But because I own no pets and swore I would turn you if the need arose, you placed me into one of only two categories that you’d formed for Vampires and then when I didn’t fit exactly, you became confused and hurt and lashed out.”

 

 

D’Artagnan shoved a hand at his shoulder, despite knowing what a useless action it was. “You’re making me sound like a child.”

 

 

“Compared to me, you are. If you wish to survive here, you must learn other perspectives. That’s how Vampires survive and as I assume you don’t intend to become a hermit, you must learn the same skills. I want you to survive.”

 

 

D’Artagnan’s eyes widened and Athos did not regret his words. He sometimes lied because his role as a Musketeer demanded it, but he would give d’Artagnan the truth because he expected the same thing in return. If he couldn’t provide the truth, then he would state that he couldn't. He could feel in his bones that this was important; he didn’t want d’Artagnan to walk away.

 

 

“I want you to survive with me.”

 

 

D’Artagnan seemed stunned and wet his lips as Athos continued “The offer for you to be my pet is still open. I will punish you if you misbehave, particularly if you do so in public. You’ll have to learn because if you don’t, I won't keep you. I’m not indulgent; I won’t keep a pet that doesn’t behave.” Athos scrutinised d’Artagnan closely. “You thought you could handle that before.”

 

 

D’Artagnan swayed towards him for a moment, his eyes dark. “I did, I…I want to. You’ll still listen to me?”

 

 

“You’ll listen to _me_?”

 

 

D’Artagnan’s voice dropped. “You’ll fuck me?”

 

 

Athos fisted a handful of d’Artagnan’s hair and yanked his head back, nipping at his neck. Was that doubt buried in d'Artagnan's voice? Was he really hung up on his theory that because Athos occasionally had sex with Aramis and Porthos, he wasn’t really interested in d'Artagnan? “And feed from you. But not here.”

 

 

There was much more to talk about too. But not here.

 

 

*

 

 

Athos showed d’Artagnan more of his land though didn’t yet reveal where the resting places were hidden. They were still a secret, for d’Artagnan’s sake as well as Athos, Aramis and Porthos’. Pets could be tortured to reveal such information.

 

 

D’Artagnan seemed to enjoy the tour and told Athos about his father’s land, what a good farmer he’d apparently been before working for Général Bonacieux instead. Alexandre d’Artagnan had tried to tell his son about farming and what it'd been like to work in all weathers and taste food you'd grown and harvested yourself and had invested so much in, but d'Artagnan had been much more interested in his father's work as Général Bonacieux's day man. D'Artagnan regretted his own disinterest now.

 

 

Athos liked hearing such details and told d'Artagnan so. D'Artagnan looked extremely sceptical. “I thought this kind of thing was why you didn't like Humans?”

 

 

“What kind of thing?”

 

 

D’Artagnan’s look became even more sceptical. “Inane conversation.”

 

 

“This isn't inane conversation.”

 

 

“I'm talking about farming!”

 

 

“And your father. I do actually enjoy your company.”

 

 

D'Artagnan's smile was pleased and Athos dug his phone out of his pocket. “If I'm not interested, I’ll tell you, though pets are expected to be a little vacuous.”

 

 

“Hey!”

 

 

Athos easily kept a straight face and called Général Bonacieux. He'd made sure to make note of all her contact numbers. She answered promptly. After pleasantries that made d'Artagnan blanch because they clued him into just who Athos was talking to, Athos launched into the actual reason for his call.

 

 

“You and your husband don't sleep with donors?”

 

 

D’Artagnan looked horrified to be part of such a conversation. Général Bonacieux didn't sound offended in the least.

 

 

“Not since we realised how much we were attached to each other.”

 

 

“And d'Artagnan has met Vampires with pets before; he's seen what can happen.”

 

 

“Yes, Vampires often bring their pets when they come to me with a grievance. Has he been causing problems? Have you had to punish him?”

 

 

She didn't sound as though she was about to rush to Paris to defend d’Artagnan. Athos admired her poise.

 

 

“I will if he continues to keep his problems to himself. I don't fuck donors either but I am not celibate. He’s had trouble processing everything. If you own a pet in the future, ensure that they spend some time outside of Gascony. D'Artagnan sometimes forgets that he isn't untouchable or singular here.”

 

 

There was a fraught pause as though the Général was pulling herself tightly together so that she didn’t snap at a King’s Musketeer. Athos waited her out.

 

 

“My husband has told me the same thing over and over again. You know, more than one Vampire made an offer for d’Artagnan but I protected him.”

 

 

“You did, long past when you should have lengthened his leash instead.”

 

 

Général Bonacieux sighed as though she truly had had this conversation many times before but she didn’t disagree with him. Good. d’Artagnan looked even tenser than before, chewing on his bottom lip. Athos cupped d’Artagnan’s jaw and kissed him softly. D’Artagnan breathed out softly when Athos pulled back, the sound like a protest. Général Bonacieux made what could have been a very amused noise.

 

 

“I take it that this isn't entirely a punishment for him anymore?”

 

 

Athos' lips lifted and he kept his gaze focused on d'Artagnan. “That depends on who you ask. Many would say extended time spent with me more than suffices as punishment. I think a month will officially be recorded as his punishment. If all goes well I would have him stay here voluntarily.”

 

 

D'Artagnan smiled a small genuine smile and he touched a hand to Athos' chest carefully as though gauging Athos' reaction. When Athos pushed into the warm touch, d'Artagnan's smile grew and his fingers began sweeping across Athos' chest. It was very distracting, a fact that d'Artagnan couldn't fail to have noticed.

 

 

Apparently Général Bonacieux had noticed it too; the smile was clear in her voice. “If he didn't want to be by your side, he would let you know, probably loudly and violently.”

 

 

Athos raised an eyebrow at that, d'Artagnan's hot-temper would have to be somewhat tamed because staying with Athos meant staying in the dangerous thick of France’sVampire politics. D'Artagnan would have to learn how to be adept at such high-wire high-pressure games. For a start, he would have to learn how to hide his instinctive explosive reactions and he’d have to stop being such an easy read in public.

 

 

Athos ran a thumb across d'Artagnan's lips, his eyebrows flicking upwards appreciatively when d'Artagnan's tongue grazed purposefully against Athos' skin.

 

 

“Has the Cardinal been in touch?” Athos asked, swiftly changing the subject.

 

 

“He's made himself known several times. I've told him and his Guards that d'Artagnan was only my pet because his father worked for me, that d'Artagnan was unremarkable except for his beauty and irritatingly unruly nature, and that I hoped a Musketeer would know how to properly discipline him.”

 

 

Athos' smile was deeply amused and impressed. He was also cautious.

 

 

“You're aware of what he'll do if he finds out you lied to him?”

 

 

“It was a rearrangement of the truth and I'm more than aware,” her voice was hard. “Some friends of mine were severely and unjustly condemned by the Cardinal, no doubt because he had plans for the land they then owned. Of course it all appeared completely by-the-book.”

 

 

So she'd witnessed the ugly side of the Cardinal and hadn't forgotten it. Perhaps that was one of the reasons she'd kept d'Artagnan so closely guarded in Gascony. That was certainly understandable. Athos' thoughts were scattered by Général Bonacieux's next words.

 

 

“The Cardinal's Guards haven't been our only visitors. A stranger commissioned my husband to design and make her some dresses for state occasions. She was interested in hearing all about d'Artagnan because she said she was thinking of becoming a pet owner herself.”

 

 

Athos held back a snarl. Of course Milady had made another play. Perhaps she even wanted him to know about it, to know how closely she was circling.

 

 

“You didn't believe her?”

 

 

“She didn't strike me as the kind of Vampire who looks for advice from farming regions,” Général Bonacieux replied flatly. “I'm sure she went into d'Artagnan's room too, her scent lingered at the doorway so I checked inside. Nothing was taken but her scent was stronger in there. You know her?”

 

 

Oh, there were several ways that Athos could respond to that. D'Artagnan frowned at Athos' no doubt pained expression and rested his fingers lightly against Athos' cheek. Athos smiled tightly.

 

 

“She was extremely beautiful with long black hair, a strong gaze and a very confident manner?”

 

 

“You _do_ know her.”

 

 

D'Artagnan's eyes had widened at Athos' description and Athos nodded.

 

 

“So does d'Artagnan, she's the 'friend' who confirmed his lead that I was responsible for his father's death.”

 

 

Général Bonacieux swore before answering. “Another employee of the Cardinal. I'll make sure she's uninvited from our home.”

 

 

“At the moment, she's using the name Milady de Winter, but she changes her identity more than most.”

 

 

Athos offered the phone to d'Artagnan but after thinking for a moment the Human shook his head. Athos finished the phone call and focused on d'Artagnan.

 

 

“Something wrong?”

 

 

Usually d'Artagnan jumped at the chance to talk to Général Bonacieux. D'Artagnan shook his head, he didn't smell upset exactly but his scent was somewhat pensive.

 

 

“I owe Constance so much and I know she'll be disappointed in me...”

 

 

Athos tucked his phone away and led d'Artagnan back towards the mansion. D'Artagnan would need to rest again soon. He was leaning comfortably into Athos, but Athos wasn't foolish enough to assume that that meant everything was fine now. D'Artagnan needed to actually trust Athos and not give in to doubt or jump to the wrong conclusions. He needed rigorous tutoring; he'd get taught how to use a firearm and some kind of bladed weapon too. Whatever training he’d received before would get sharpened and built on, as would the Vampire knowledge he already possessed. He could barge through the delicate politic webs being spun in Paris and elsewhere. D'Artagnan could cause a lot of damage, Athos wanted to limit the chances of that happening.

 

 

Inside the lobby of the mansion, his thoughts spiralling, Athos pressed d'Artagnan up against the nearest wall. D'Artagnan let out a breath, his scent becoming heated and aroused. Good. They both needed a distraction and when they next saw the King, d'Artagnan would need to smell much more of Athos. And who knew when the Cardinal would send someone to spy on Athos and d'Artagnan? Who knew when he'd command Athos and his pet to visit? The Cardinal would be looking for any excuse to damage the Musketeers. Athos would do everything possible to eliminate such excuses.

 

 

He kissed d'Artagnan thoroughly, sliding a thigh between d'Artagnan's. D'Artagnan's moans and thrusts made Athos' fangs run down and he pressed his mouth to d'Artagnan's ear, his fingers pointedly stroking the Human's neck.

 

 

“We have time.”

 

 

D'Artagnan nodded without any hesitation. “Yes, I...Yes, God, please.”

 

 

Athos ran his fangs down d'Artagnan's jaw and pulled him towards the staircase. They took their time making their way towards a room with a bed. Athos could have fed from d'Artagnan anywhere he liked, but he wanted to thoroughly take apart d'Artagnan, he wanted to see the Human writhing beneath him.

 

 

Athos chose a small spare bedroom that hadn't been claimed yet, but Agnes kept the bedclothes fresh in every room and it was light-tight too of course. Athos pushed d'Artagnan onto the bed and slowly began unbuttoning d'Artagnan's shirt. D'Artagnan predictably fidgeted.

 

 

Athos pinched hard at d'Artagnan's waist. “Patience.”

 

 

“You're torturing me.”

 

 

Athos pressed a sharp kiss to d'Artagnan's clavicle. “I'm teaching you.”

 

 

D'Artagnan made a garbled sound in reply as Athos unzipped d'Artagnan's jeans and stroked a hand across the front of d'Artagnan's boxer shorts. He really did respond beautifully. Athos hummed quietly.

 

 

“When you were fed from before, did they do this?”

 

 

D'Artagnan shook his head rapidly. “They didn't...they wanted to, I could tell, but Constance...they didn't want to anger her.”

 

 

Athos squeezed a hand around d'Artagnan's cock, watching as the boy startled a little and pushed into the touch eagerly. He was a gorgeous sight; it was amazing that other Vampires had resisted him until now. Clearly Général Bonacieux was fierce enough to keep her Vampire subjects cowed into good behaviour, even when faced with a stunning wanting Human.

 

 

Athos paused before continuing, because he wasn't going to allow the Cardinal and his agents any footholds. He gazed down at d'Artagnan, pleased with how quickly d'Artagnan met his gaze and gave Athos his full attention.

 

 

“You want this?”

 

 

D'Artagnan gave him disbelieving look and rolled his hips pointedly. “You're holding proof of that.”

 

 

Athos smirked just a little and ran a thumb down d'Artagnan's hard cock before repeating with significant emphasis. “You want this?”

 

 

D'Artagnan gasped a little, clearly wanting proceedings to continue quickly, but he did answer, his eyes open and his expression sure. “I _definitely_ want this, a lot.”

 

 

Athos shoved d'Artagnan's jeans down past his thighs and licked firmly at d'Artagnan's neck, numbing the skin there. D'Artagnan garbled out a series of delicious noises as Athos began to stroke d'Artagnan's cock and with the ease of decades of practice, slid his fangs into d'Artagnan's neck. D'Artagnan barely startled, his hands gripping Athos' shoulders, urging the Vampire on. Athos took mouthful after mouthful of blood; possessive lust crashing through him, hardening his cock, as d'Artagnan writhed shamelessly, wordlessly wanting more. Athos wanted more too, a rarity in itself. But d'Artagnan was different and if he learned well he could be so much more.

 

 

When Athos felt and heard d'Artagnan noisily reach his climax, he took one last dragging mouthful of blood before carefully pulling his fangs free and healing the mark they'd left with a drop of his own blood. D'Artagnan smelled sated and much less pensive. Athos lifted a sticky hand and licked at his own fingers. D'Artagnan whimpered and accepted a kiss tinged with his own blood and come. Athos relished the glowing warmth of d'Artagnan's skin. He pulled back enough to speak.

 

 

“You're Mine.”

 

 

He ran possessive fingers down d'Artagnan's body, enjoying the way d'Artagnan twitched sensitively. It was a tease but it was a serious point too. Athos didn't intend on keeping d'Artagnan chained up or treating him as something to be kept in the larder, but d'Artagnan would be His in every sense of the word. As much as the Human claimed to be okay with the concept, he'd already demonstrated that he wasn’t entirely and so Athos would likely have to unhesitatingly punish him in the future, in public or otherwise. It was what d’Artagnan would need.

 

 

D'Artagnan nodded. The evening had been a very good progression it seemed. D'Artagnan appeared to think so as well because he tucked himself closer to Athos, still shameless and prettily greedy. Athos thumbed the Human's lush mouth, his own lips lifting when d'Artagnan grazed blunt teeth against the Vampire's pale skin.

 

 

“It's never felt _that_ intense before,” d'Artagnan continued, sounding a little breathless.

 

 

Of course it hadn't, physical pleasure heightened feeding exponentially. Athos was fiercely glad d’Artagnan hadn’t experienced that with anyone else before, that d'Artagnan would now have that moment with Athos as a perfect unspoiled pleasure memory. Athos tugged at d'Artagnan's hair a little, enjoying how easily the boy went with the movement. Some things seemed to come wonderfully naturally to d’Artagnan, particularly when in the right hands.

 

 

“You have so much to learn.”

 

 

It was a warning as well as a statement. D’Artagnan glanced towards Athos, his expression revealing that he’d caught both meanings as his hand slid down to fondle Athos’ still-hard cock.

 

 

“I’m looking forward to it.”

 

 

Athos raised his eyebrows, a gesture filled with several layers of admonishment and detail even if he too was looking forward to continuing d'Artagnan's education. It was going to be hard work and frustrating at times, Athos could foresee that all too clearly but he could also foresee how pleasurable it was going to be and how worthwhile. There were many areas to cover and the night was still relatively young, Athos intended to use every minute of it. His teeth running sharp, Athos set one hand firmly to d’Artagnan’s neck and put him to work.

 

 

_-the end_


End file.
